


This Atmosphere Got Tangled

by jiminly, jks_microwave



Series: This Atmosphere Got Tangled [3]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Drunkenness, Emotional Roller Coaster, Feelings Realization, Heartache, Hongjoong is in love with Seonghwa and Seonghwa's oblivious about it, Jealousy, Jung Wooyoung is a Brat, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Mention Of Homophobia, Miscommunication, One step forward two steps back the musical, Pre-Poly, Slow Burn, Smut, Switch Choi San, Switch Jung Wooyoung, Switch Park Seonghwa, Tattoos, Top Kim Hongjoong, manifesting a BTS ATEEZ collab ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-26 16:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 54,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30108486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jiminly/pseuds/jiminly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jks_microwave/pseuds/jks_microwave
Summary: An impulsive night has sent ripples throughout the band, leaving Hongjoong and San to pick up the pieces of their long-held feelings for Seonghwa and Wooyoung, while the latter pair begin to explore a blossoming infatuation for each other.Then, a shocking, physical fight erupts at rehearsal and the spiral begins.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Kim Hongjoong, Jung Wooyoung/Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Series: This Atmosphere Got Tangled [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209839
Comments: 25
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for your support on [Come to My Side](https://archiveofourown.org/works/30039498), [Come to My Seat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047358)\-- honestly, we just couldn't leave everyone hanging like that and not continue this story, so, HERE WE ARE, collabing on a multi-chapter to help these poor boys work their shit out. It's gonna be messy, it's gonna be sappy, it's gonna be sexy, we hope you will enjoy the ride 😉
> 
> For reference:  
> Hongjoong and San's povs written by jks_microwave  
> Seonghwa and Wooyoung's povs written by jiminly  
> Edited by both of us
> 
> And as always: WE DO NOT IRL SHIP / NOT A DELULU. None of the story is an indication of what we think is goes on irl. Everything's been properly tagged. If canon compliant fics make you uncomfortable, please do not read this.

_**BEFORE YOU START:** This fic is a direct continuation of [Come to My Seat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047358) in the series - make sure you read it first before reading this one! ATINY fighting ✨_

~ * ~

“We’re dead, Sannie, _we are so dead_ ,” Wooyoung hisses, and San wrenches his hand away as they clamber into the car. Wooyoung flops into the middle, only to be waved to the opposite window seat when Hongjoong climbs inside after them.

He and San shoot each other a fearful glance across Hongjoong’s chest before Wooyoung slumps back in his seat, staring ahead, eyes wide into the middle distance.

There are a few immediate thoughts running through his head:

One. Seonghwa and Hongjoong _did_ have a fight.

Wooyoung is not _completely_ stupid. He knew there would be a good reason behind Seonghwa finally reciprocating his desire for more. Not just that, Seonghwa _instigated_. Wooyoung nearly had a heart attack when he said he wanted to kiss him.

But that in itself was suspicious. Such forwardness was not in Seonghwa’s nature and, honestly, Wooyoung had been starting to suspect that the man had no selfish desires at all. He’s so glad to be wrong about that, but he still has the feeling that his selfish desires only came out because it was prompted by something. Seonghwa and Hongjoong rarely fought, a distressing occurrence that has a nasty ripple effect for the group when it does happen. The tension between them for the last month had been palpable but the two of them usually work it out before it explodes (unlike San and himself, who fight often but tend to forgive just as quickly).

With the pressure of their new comeback and the current schedule, perhaps a fight between their hyungs really was just a matter of time. So yeah, they fought, and then Seonghwa kissed him. That... happened. Wooyoung pointedly doesn’t think about the events that transpired after Seonghwa kissed him or else he’s going to get half hard in the fucking car next to Hongjoong while he’s at the terrifying level of livid that actually scared the shit out of him.

As the car turns down the streets of Seoul, rattling them around in the back seat, an icy anger radiates off Hongjoong in thick waves, his mouth turned down in a resentful frown, glaring at the road ahead. A sobering shiver runs down Wooyoung’s spine at the visual alone.

O-Okay, good, that’s sorted out his almost-stiffy situation.

Two. San is acting fucking weird.

The picture with Jimin-sunbaenim had obviously been a punch to the gut, and when Wooyoung confronted him about it in the morning, San had been sulky and grumpy and Wooyoung didn’t understand why. _And_ San refused to talk about their “Seongjoong” plot. So, something happened with him last night too, but he told Wooyoung that nothing happened.

Well, evidently, something very much _did_ happen if he managed to go and hang out with Jimin-sunbaenim at two in the morning during their pre-comeback schedule, what the _fuck_.

His first thought was that Yeosang had told San, because it was Yeosang who had found Wooyoung and Seonghwa wrapped around each other that morning, having overslept (and quite literally _kicked_ them awake), but the timeline didn’t match up. Wooyoung had freaked out upon being caught, but once Yeosang left the room, Seonghwa had drawn him in for a tender kiss and--

_Crap._

_Don’t think about it, don’t think about his soft lips, the smell of his shampoo, his sweet musk.. oh god, I said don’t think about it!!!_

Wooyoung swallows thickly, feeling the familiar pool of arousal. He really needs to not be hard at the restaurant. Okay, what are un-sexy things… like, Hongjoong angrily slapping him across the face…

Actually, that’s a fucking hot thought.

A pathetic little whimper slips off Wooyoung’s tongue and Hongjoong’s chilling glare immediately snaps to fix onto him. Wooyoung squeaks and buries his face into his hands to hide how much he’s blushing.

He is so fucked, he is _so_ fucked, because...

Three. Wooyoung is in love with Seonghwa.

Not, like, friend love or admiration love, but honest to god, head over heels, I-want-to-drop-to-one-knee-and-ask-you-to-spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-me love.

It had always been there. Dormant. His love for Seonghwa, like gasoline being poured and poured, nearly invisible. Until one day, a spark lights and the whole town goes up in flames.

That’s how Wooyoung feels right now. When he loves it’s big-hearted, aggressive and passionate. A love he puts his whole body into. A zealous fire will burn bright, forever. An eternal flame that couldn’t be quashed on his own, even if he wanted to.

His pocket vibrates and Wooyoung reaches for his phone quickly, chest squeezing with a hopeful thought that it’s a text from Seonghwa.

Instead he finds himself staring down at the notification preview with a loathing scowl.

 **Sannie [5:24 pm]  
**You’re such a hypocrite

Scowl twisting into a nasty frown, Wooyoung opens the LINE app and quickly types a message back, hitting the send button with a loud _tap._

 **Wooyoungie [5:24 pm]  
**oh and that picture with jimin-sunbaenim wasn’t supposed to make me jealous?  
WHILE WE’RE ON A BREAK???  
hypocrite my fat ass

There’s a _vvt vvt_ sound from the opposite side of the car, a pause, then fast tapping as a three dot bubble appears on Wooyoung’s screen before the white bubble shoots up from under the keyboard.

 **Sannie [5:24 pm]  
**Maybe if you didn’t jump into hwa-hyung’s bed at lightning speed you could’ve come too

Wooyoung starts at that, blood running cold.

 **Wooyoungie [5:25 pm]  
**what

 **Sannie [5:25 pm]  
**did I stutter

 **Wooyoungie [5:25 pm]  
**ok wait  
wait no im confused  
did you spy on me?

 **Sannie [5:26 pm]  
**The door was open  
Saw the two of you going at it  
Wanted ice cream  
Got water instead because I can’t have ice cream  
>:(

Wooyoung’s eyes narrow down at the screen, head flicking to the side as he mulls over his reply. Finally he keys something in and sends it back.

 **Wooyoungie [5:26 pm]  
**we agreed no feelings.

 **Sannie [5:27 pm]  
**[img attached]

He freezes. It’s another photo of San and Jimin-sunbaenim, but this time Jimin’s even closer, face angled so he’s almost kissing San’s cheek, half-lidded eyes staring down the camera like he’s saying ‘ _fuck you, he’s mine_ ’ to Wooyoung. He huffs out a few shuddering breaths before furiously tapping a response.

 **Wooyoungie [5:27 pm]  
**your being such a bitch about this. this was YOUR idea remember

 **Sannie [5:27 pm]  
***you’re  
I didn’t say anything  
:P

 **Wooyoungie [5:27 pm]  
**stfu  
You're such a liar

San’s being a real asshole; Wooyoung wants nothing more than to unbuckle from his seat and launch himself over Hongjoong to claw at San. But he can’t do that under fear of death, so he grimaces, fingers practically punching the phone screen now.

 **Wooyoungie [5:29 pm]  
**whatever maybe ill give him head again tonight  
since he seemed to enjoy it so much last time  
ill even let your nosy ass watch the whole show this time if you ask nicely

 **Sannie [5:30 pm]  
***I’ll  
Sure, do that while joong-hyung is pissed at us  
Dumbass

 **Wooyoungie [5:32 pm]  
**I didnt go against what we agreed on  
i don't get why you're being like this

San takes over five whole fucking minutes to come back with a pathetic response.

 **Sannie [5:38 pm]  
**Of course you wouldn’t

 _***NEW GROUP: Hongjoong, San, Wooyoung*  
**_**Hongjoong [5:38 pm]  
**Fucking shut up we’re here

Hongjoong pushes San out of the car, grabbing Wooyoung by the collar to drag him out behind him. Once they’re all on the asphalt in the car park behind the restaurant, Hongjoong’s hands snake around their necks to hold them by the scruff. Wooyoung barely suppresses a low moan as San shoots him a look of disgust before rolling his eyes.

Fucking pleasure point.

“What are the rules?” Hongjoong hisses in a low, dangerous tone.

“We’re going to have dinner like normal people,” San mumbles, sulking.

“No talking about what happened unless you bring it up,” Wooyoung whimpers, trying not to squirm in Hongjoong’s grip.

“That’s right,” Hongjoong lets them go, fixing them with a final demonic glare. “Because you do not want to find out what happens if you break them.”

“Yes, Leader,” Wooyoung and San nod aggressively in unison.

They enter the restaurant, a Korean BBQ place that’s secure enough that they can have a dinner together without being mobbed. The owners know their manager, know the company, and can arrange for a secure table, making sure that the other patrons in the restaurant know not to bother them or take any pictures.

As they enter, a rush of delectable scents mix together - meat, seafood, the deliciously disgusting smell of grease and smoke - and it sends Wooyoung’s appetite into overdrive. He didn’t realize how hungry literally uprooting his sex life as he knew it would make him. Out of habit, Wooyoung looks around the restaurant, eying the other tables’ food combinations. Food will serve as a good distraction from San, or Seonghwa, or even Hongjoong right now.

The rest of the group is already sitting at a long table with three grills spaced an equal distance apart and three empty seats at the end. Numerous plates of raw meat and seafood, alongside various vegetables and other sides have already arrived, equally distributed amongst the group’s seating arrangement. Wooyoung’s eyes immediately lock onto Seonghwa across the room, who’s placed at the head of the table. Seonghwa’s gaze lights up with a smile for the briefest second, before he notices Hongjoong beside Wooyoung and the smile falters, immediately dropping his head to look at his plate. Wooyoung’s stomach twists and turns with pleasure and guilt.

As they approach, Yunho notices them and throws his arms up with a small cheer that a couple others join in with. Hongjoong takes control, ordering some of the members to shift around so San and Wooyoung aren’t sitting together.

“Uh oh,” Mingi comments, hesitating but ultimately continuing, “I thought something was up.”

“Are you okay, hyung?” Jongho asks Hongjoong, concern clearly written on his face. The leader just gestures to Wooyoung and San. “Ah.”

“What do you mean ‘ _ah_ ’?!” Wooyoung retorts without thinking and gets the pointy end of a sharp look from Hongjoong, causing him to shrink into his seat next to Yeosang.

“You ever gonna tell me about what was going on this morning?” Yeosang whispers to Wooyoung.

“I’m not allowed to talk about it,” Wooyoung mutters back, lifting his gaze back to Seonghwa, who is still staring at his food.

It’s a little awkward, and Yunho graciously launches into some kind of story that, thankfully, after a few minutes, returns the positive, relaxed atmosphere to the table. Meanwhile Mingi and Jongho are trying to cheer San up on the other side of the table. Wooyoung’s brow sets deep, loading up his plate as Yeosang chooses to ignore him in favour of joining a conversation with Hongjoong and Yunho, who are now chatting about progress on a song from their new album called _Time of Love_.

Wooyoung looks up again to Seonghwa, who’s finally paying attention to something other than his food. He’s always enjoyed sneaking glances at the eldest but only now does he really pause to observe Seonghwa, to just indulge in the time to really take him in and appreciate him. who stays quiet for the majority of the time, keen eyes wandering over the group like a guardian angel. Wooyoung’s insides prickle with an affectionate warmth at it. He supposes being the Mom of the group can be a bit of a thankless job. He makes a note that he should do something soon to show his appreciation for Seonghwa, who always works so hard for them.

Swallowing thickly, Wooyoung tries to concentrate on his food but his gaze keeps being drawn back to Seonghwa. The man is currently outfitted in a black oversized sweater with distressed holes and a wide neckline that drapes effortlessly to reveal half of a pretty collarbone. Wooyoung anxiously licks his lips, admiring the way it accentuates the slope of Seonghwa’s slender neck and handsome jawline.

Then, Seonghwa’s watchful gaze finds him, mouthing, “ _You okay?_ ” across the table. Wooyoung just nods, heart catching in his throat, before shoving three pieces of gimbap in his mouth.

This is great. This is fine.

He can survive one awkward dinner.

Right?

“ - yeah, pretty tired, Hongjoongie-hyung and I went out for drinks with Jimin-sunbaenim late last night,” San raises his voice pointedly, bringing Wooyoung sharply out of his reverie. A sudden hush falls over the table.

“Prove it,” Yeosang challenges, deadpan.

San’s smile darkens to meet the challenge, then pulls out his phone to show it around proudly. There’s some gasps and glances over to Wooyoung, who goes bright red, choking around the inhuman amount of gimbap currently in his mouth. Jongho snatches the phone to get a better look, mouth open in shock.

“Jeez, Woo must have kicked himself for missing that,” Yunho says with a smirk, glancing between them.

San gives a single laugh then glares at Wooyoung. “Yeah.”

“So _that’s_ why you two are fighting,” Mingi says as he rolls his eyes and Wooyoung bristles in his seat, swallowing his not quite chewed mouthful down to shoot a dirty grimace back at San. It burns like hell down his throat, making him grip his sweatpants under the table. Worth it.

“Overstuffing your mouth a lot lately, huh?” San comments, eyes still piercing.

Wooyoung moves to stand up but he suppresses the desire, eyes instinctively snapping to Seonghwa, who’s flushed so deeply his ears are pink. Back to San, he hisses, “Shut. Up.”

“ _San_ ,” Hongjoong warns, and the pink haired man’s gaze flashes to their leader before he sits back with a moody look. Yunho and Mingi share an awkward glance.

“Can’t we all just get along~?” Yeosang belts out in a sing-song voice, arms outstretched and Wooyoung stamps on his foot under the table. Yeosang doesn’t even flinch, just turns his head to fix Wooyoung with a smug smile.

Oh, fuck _this_.

“Excuse me,” Wooyoung stands now, a high-pitched scrape of his chair behind him. The last thing he hears is a groan from Hongjoong as he storms in the direction of the bathrooms. The restrooms are down a flight of stairs into the basement, splitting off into men’s and women’s sides with slow jazz music playing fairly loudly over speakers. He passes a long mirror, stretching across a communal vanity to the toilets, where there are a row of fully enclosed stalls, each with their own little mirror and sink inside.

He enters one and slams the stall door shut, letting out a strained growl. San was being _unbelievably_ petulant, and over what? Because _Wooyoung_ went through with San’s harebrained idea?

_“Hwa-hyung and Joongie-hyung are stressing me OUT.”_

_“I don’t think they realize how important they are to each other. They get hella jealous; maybe we should pick one and help them relieve some stress, haha! They’ll realize that while we’re amazing lays, they need each other.”  
  
“Sannie… that’s brilliant!”_

_“And you can stop bitching that you don’t do anything new.”_

Well fat fucking lot of good that’s done them, hasn’t it?

The tension between Seonghwa and Hongjoong is notably worse, and now he and San are fighting too!

Wooyoung grips his hands on the sides of the sink to stare at himself in the mirror before he groans deeply, dropping his head.

San is his soulmate. There is no question about that fact, but the thing about soulmates is they know exactly what buttons to push and when San is in a sulk, he uses that knowledge to his advantage. Wooyoung has, let’s say, a little less _tact_ when it comes to their arguments, usually throwing blind insults until one sticks. It’s easier to get a rise out of someone because when it comes to intensity, he can match that. Clever, calculated jabs that stab right into your soul, not so much.

Besides, that cleverness is a reason why he...

Why he loves San.

Why he’s _in love_ with San.

But, he’s also in love with Seonghwa, apparently?

At least, that’s what he thinks his heart is trying to tell him because when he visualises his hyung, it’s like it is enlarging so much in his chest, there'll be no more room left in his ribcage. It has to be love because that’s the exact same feeling he gets when he thinks about San.

At least, it is when San’s not being such an asshole.

Wooyoung looks back up to himself in the mirror, a dark pink band now present across his face. He reaches his hands up to touch his cheeks where they’re burning.

Last night was…

Wooyoung’s breath hitches when he remembers how hard Seonghwa-hyung was. He shouldn’t, but he can’t help but wonder if that erection was because of him, or if Seonghwa was just pent up in general. Playing sleepy dumb had been a great strategy to get him into bed but Wooyoung never would have expected him to be _that_ horny. Even though it was a lay that was in San’s plan, all Wooyoung was aiming for was a snuggle and _maybe_ a kiss, if he was lucky. But when the opportunity presented itself, Wooyoung wasn’t going to not take it and go down on Seonghwa. Especially if it was going to be a one off deal.

After all, going down on Seonghwa had been a long, long time fantasy of his.

He would _never_ tell San this, but it’s his go-to visualisation if he needs to beat one out as quickly as possible. It isn’t because San doesn’t turn him on, not at all, but he knows every inch and detail of San: his sounds, the way he looks when he’s fucked out, the reaction he gets when Wooyoung licks _that_ spot on the back of his knee. A San fantasy was for off-days, when he had hours available to plug himself up and really draw out the intensity of the orgasm. But Seonghwa…

Seonghwa was pure fantasy.

He was _forbidden_.

But he isn’t so forbidden anymore, is he? What had he said?

_“Oh, yes. Forever, if you’d like.”_

Wooyoung bites his lip as Seonghwa’s sleepy, sexy voice penetrates his memory. Before he can stop it, he’s back in Seonghwa’s room, the man sitting on his knees at the head of the bed, staring down to Wooyoung with that same smouldering, aroused look from last night.

“ _Oh, fuck_ ,” Wooyoung rasps out, wide gaze dropping to the small mountain in his sweatpants. He quickly checks that the stall is definitely locked.

Wooyoung’s hand hesitates, then plunges into his pants to take hold of his erection with a small moan. His other hand supports his weight on the sink as he cranes his neck back, eyes fluttering shut as this new visual of Seonghwa strengthens. There’s a trail of hickeys up his flushed, toned body and Seonghwa’s hand cards through Wooyoung’s hair before tightening hard and guiding his mouth onto his upright cock.

His imagination supplies him with a new variable. San’s there too, strong hands holding fast onto Wooyoung’s hips as he fucks him from behind. Oh, that’s good. Wooyoung bites his lip, groaning again. Seonghwa and San’s gazes rise to each other, then back down to Wooyoung, pouring their love and lust into him with sweet moans of their own. _O-Oh yes_. All the attention on Wooyoung. Seonghwa’s hand cups his face, thumb stroking over the hard lump in Wooyoung’s cheek where his dick is being swirled. He murmurs little affirmations of encouragement that set Wooyoung’s blood on fire.

“ _Wooyoungie. Baby. You feel so good, you’re doing so good taking our cocks, you’re a star, baby._ ”

Wooyoung pace quickens around himself, sighing deeply. He needs a little more. What if he’s tied up? Ropes pressing into him, marking him, his hands bound behind him, suspending him from the ceiling. Wooyoung gulps in a gasp at the fantasy of immobility as San and Seonghwa continue to fuck him harder from both ends. Wooyoung looks up blearily in his reverie to see Seonghwa’s face again, but there’s an intruder, an addition he didn’t consciously accept.

Hongjoong stands behind Seonghwa, licking a wet stripe up the eldest’s neck as he stares down to Wooyoung, dark and intense, holding eye contact, not blinking once. Wooyoung nearly buckles over but he catches himself on the side of the sink, pumping fast, release within reach.

Hongjoong’s hand snakes up Seonghwa’s shoulder, gripping sexily around Seonghwa’s neck and his eyes glaze over in pure pleasure. Hongjoong stalks forward, over Seonghwa’s shoulder, bending the laws of reality to come nose to nose with Wooyoung, who jerks helplessly in the ropes. Everything fades away but Hongjoong’s dangerous tone.

“ _You know what we do to little sluts?_ ”

“ _Wh-What?_ ” Wooyoung gulps.

“ _We punish them_.”

Wooyoung gasps through the climax, quickly biting down hard into his lip to suppress any loud, questionable sounds. Cum spurts out onto the wall under the sink, collecting in a large glob before slipping down thickly to the floor.

Wooyoung stares, wide eyed, panting.

That was…. fucking weird. And hot. Very weird and very hot.

What the fuck.

Trying to quickly compose himself, Wooyoung awkwardly bends under the sink to clean up the stupid mess he’s made, kicking himself for not jerking off over the toilet. There’s thankfully a spray bottle of disinfectant which he uses liberally over the wall and floor. Flushing the giant wad of toilet paper down the loo, he washes his hands and up his arms for at least 30 seconds, then takes a moment to freshen himself up in the mirror, needing to clean up a smear of blood now over his lip where he bit down too hard.

He is just… going to park all of that in the back of his mind to process for later.

Yep, that’s healthy.

Taking a bracing breath, he pushes back out into the restroom, freezing when he sees Seonghwa there, who’s leaning against the end of the vanity with his arms crossed. Wooyoung blinks, mouth parting slightly as Seonghwa looks up with a relieved look.

“Are you okay, Woo?” his hyung asks, closing the distance to place a caring hand on his cheek, brushing a thumb over his mouth. “Your lip...”

“I-” Wooyoung blinks up to him, but his body is struggling to tell this Seonghwa from fantasy Seonghwa, a phantom arousal tingling from his toes to the tip of his head. His eyelids become heavy with a heady lust. He nearly moans, trying to hide how badly he’s being affected. Needing to be closer, closer, _closer still_ until he’s been swallowed whole by Seonghwa as their naked bodies roll over each other in a desperate, delicious daze. He wants to be with Seonghwa so badly, it's kind of terrifying.

“Wooyoungie?” Seonghwa’s mouth rises into that extremely hot toothy smile like he’s halfway between curiosity and confusion.

Wooyoung surges up into a searing kiss, smashing their lips together with a desperate whine. There’s nothing elegant or graceful about it: no modesty, just pure, primal, unadulterated _need_ for the man in front of him. Seonghwa’s lips part, almost in shock, and their tongues roll over each other fiercely, one of Seonghwa’s slender hands coming up to clasp painfully on his upper arm as the other cradles the back of his head.

After a moment lost in bliss, Seonghwa grips his shoulders, forcing them to part, staring at him through wide eyes.

“Let’s fuck, Seonghwa,” Wooyoung immediately says before he’s told to stop, that they can’t do this, that it was a mistake.

Seonghwa just stares, taking a shaky breath before he chuckles affectionately. “A-Alright Woo.”

Wooyoung blinks, throat tight with shock. “R-Really?”

“Yeah. Yes, absolutely.”

“ _Oh my god_.” He can’t believe that actually worked.

“But I need to talk to Hongjoonie about it first. It’s not fair on him if we get too ahead of ourselves.”

Wooyoung, stunned, just nods. “Do you think he’ll be okay with it?”

Seonghwa’s expression melts with endearment in such a way that Wooyoung’s breath catches in his throat, heart skipping a beat. “You love your hyungs, don’t you? So considerate, my little Wooyoungie.” Seonghwa reaches out to gently touch him on the nose before cupping his jaw.

“Y-Yep,” Wooyoung gulps thickly. That’s him, ' _considerate_ '.

“You leave it up to your hyung, okay?” Seonghwa says, index finger twisting under Wooyoung’s chin to pull them together and capture him in a tender kiss. When they part, Seonghwa gives him a little wink and Wooyoung feels like he might pass out. “Now, let’s get you back before anyone starts to worry about us. I want to see what else you can try and deepthroat.”

Wooyoung chokes on his own spit.

~ * ~

**Seonghwa [9:01 p.m.]  
**Where are you?

 **Hongjoong [9:05 p.m.]  
**The usual spot

 **Hongjoong [9:06 p.m.]  
**Wear a hoodie  
It’s cold  
I know you get cold easily

Hongjoong sighs as he sets the phone down against his knee, pressing his face against it with a soft groan. He’d spent the entire awkward-ass dinner equal parts furious and distressed; what the hell was he going to say to Seonghwa? (Hey, Wooyoung and San thought it would be a great idea to seduce us both to make us jealous and it worked? I can’t stand the idea of him being there instead of me?)

He was going to sound like a lunatic.

The sound of the metal ladder scraping against the side of the wall snaps Hongjoong out of his thoughts and he looks over, seeing Seonghwa’s head pop up over the edge of the rooftop. Hongjoong’s heart stops in his throat as he realizes that Seonghwa’s wearing one of Hongjoong’s oversized hoodies, specifically the _Panic! At the Disco_ one.

There was definitely too much panic in his life and not enough disco.

“...Joong?” Seonghwa’s voice is soft, and so concerned, sending spears of guilt into Hongjoong’s chest.

“I’m here,” he replies, hoping his voice sounds as steady as he wants it. “I… got some coffee for you, too. Strawberry flavoured cream and a half spoon of sugar.”

 _Just the way you like it_ , he almost adds.

 _I love you_ , his heart pipes up insistently.

Hongjoong ignores both and swallows, watching as Seonghwa easily swings his long legs over the edge of the roof and crawls over. Even without realizing it, Seonghwa always hits Hongjoong’s buttons, this time being no exception. He isn’t sure how many times he imagined Seonghwa on his knees like this, confidence surging in his eyes like it does on stage, but this time it’s just for Hongjoong. No one else gets to see it.

“Ah, you’re right,” Seonghwa says, rubbing his arms as he sits beside Hongjoong but a respectful ‘friend’ distance away, just near the edge of the blanket that Hongjoong spread on the cold concrete of the roof. “It’s cold.”

“...here,” Hongjoong whispers, handing a thermos with the strawberry-flavoured coffee over to Seonghwa, his breath hitching as their fingers brush together. For a moment, Hongjoong wonders if he should risk it all, just take the jump and fuck everything else. “Hwa--”

“--Joong,” Seonghwa says at the same time, and for a moment they stare at each other, eyes wide and mouths open. “Aha… sorry.” Seonghwa looks down at his hands, pulling the sleeves of Hongjoong’s hoodie over his fingers, fashioning a pair of sweater paws. “You go first.”

(No because I think I’ll die if I do,) Hongjoong thinks, panicked, but swallows and nods. He knows he has to go first; he’s the Leader, he’s the second oldest and … honestly, this is his fault. “I’m sorry.”

Seonghwa’s breath hitches in his throat, his eyes wide and beautiful lips parted in surprise. “...Hongjoong?”

Swallowing again, this time to moisten his throat which decides now is the time to dry out like the Sahara, Hongjoong nods. “For… for what happened. It wasn’t… it’s _not_ right… not right to yell at you like that, no matter how much pressure I’m under. You’re just doing your best, and you’ve got a lot on your shoulders too. I’m not… I’m sorry I didn’t take that into account. You shouldn’t have to… stress yourself out about me.” He swallows again and forces himself to look up at the eldest, forcing himself to talk. “I appreciate… everything you do, Hwa. I should say it more often. How much I care about you. How much… I love you.”

Fuck.

He didn’t want to say that.

It’s out there now, though, and now Hongjoong is dealing with Seonghwa staring back at him with widening eyes and … an expression shifting into confusion.

Why is he confused?

“I love you too,” Seonghwa agrees, smiling gently.

Hongjoong’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest in joy. But something in Seonghwa’s tone makes his brain fire off alarms louder than a nuclear power plant that’s about to explode. “You… you do?” he croaks.

“Of course,” Seonghwa replies, his beautiful smile widening. “Just like I love everyone, and it’s important to me that we support each other. You work so hard for us, Joong… I want to help as much as I can.”

Oh.

No, he can save this.

Slowly, Hongjoong nods. “Yeah, yeah of course. Everyone. We… we should… haha, sorry, it’s … this is harder than I thought it’d be.”

“It is, isn’t it? I’m jealous at how San and Wooyoung can just blurt things out to each other…” Seonghwa laughs, though there’s a bit of a blush dusting his tanned cheeks when he mentions the dancer that sends an involuntary pulse of … _something_ through the rapper’s veins.

“...Yeah,” Hongjoong lamely agrees.

Seonghwa looks over at him and tilts his head slightly, watching him like he always does, with that gentle look on his face, a small smile always on his lips. “I’m sorry too,” he says finally. “It wasn’t… I shouldn’t have raised my voice. You shoulder a lot because of us, because of me. I should be stronger--”

“--Hwa, you’re more than strong enough,” Hongjoong protests, interrupting the older man. “I wouldn’t be able to make it this far without you. I love you.”

Fuck. He did it again.

Confused, Seonghwa looks at him. “I love you too,” he repeats, his voice trailing off. He lets one hand release itself from the sweater paws and touches a cool hand to Hongjoong’s forehead, checking his temperature. “Are you feeling alright?”

( _No!_ ) Hongjoong’s heart screams. “I’m fine, just… end of production, beginning of promotion stress.” He coughs, shaking his head as he removes Seonghwa’s hand, maybe holding onto it for a beat too long. “We should… talk. About...what to do … n-next time. So we don’t… so this doesn’t…” He stammers, thrown off the one singular thought he’s supposed to have when Seonghwa’s long fingers curl underneath his jawline. “--you said you had something to talk to me about too?”

Seonghwa’s eyes widen at that and his hand drops from Hongjoong’s face, the pads of his fingers brushing crushingly slowly and lightly against the reddening skin of his cheek. For the briefest of moments, Seonghwa’s thumb passes over Hongjoong’s lips and for the second time that night, Hongjoong thinks he can risk it all.

Then Seonghwa opens his mouth.

“I … I have this… _arrangement_ with Wooyoungie,” Seonghwa starts, a bright blush colouring his cheeks, a shy smile on his lips. “Kind of like what… we had, but it’s… it’s different, you know? A bit more intense, and there’s less… -- I don’t want you to be burdened with having to always be the one to pleasure me, especially when you’re stressed out shouldering everything for us. I don’t expect you to give me more than you’re comfortable giving, so I hope this comes as a relief to you.”

Hongjoong’s never felt like he wanted to scream and cry nearly as much as he wants to right now. Nothing - not the stress of debuting, of being chosen as leader, not even the stress he’s currently under - compares to the sledgehammer that he gets to the gut, that swings upwards and smashes his heart into his throat.

“...you and Wooyoung?”

His voice doesn’t even sound like himself, but it doesn’t seem like Seonghwa is noticing. The shy smile is still on his lips as he gazes up to the sky, stars peeking through a smattering of clouds. He fiddles with the edges of Hongjoong’s hoodie’s sleeves. “Yeah. Me and Wooyoungie.”

“Oh. Good. That’s… good.” Hongjoong nods, forcing a smile. “I’m glad… I’m glad Wooyoung… could… help you. That’s… nice of him.” (Excuse me while I throw myself off this fucking roof and into the Han River.)

“He’s … he’s just so open and honest about how he feels and what he wants, it’s refreshing, I think… he’s a good influence on me.”

Hongjoong is half a second from flinging himself off the roof but he’s rooted to his spot, dizzy from devastation and lovesickness. He clenches the thermos in his own hands so tightly that his knuckles turn white and in an attempt to hide his feelings, wrenches open the lid and gulps down the piping hot liquid.

“...this is what you want, Hwa?” he asks finally, his voice rough.

“Mm. I think it’ll work out the best for everyone.”

Hongjoong’s heart wrenches in his chest, screaming as loud as it can, but in one fell swoop the rapper shuts it in a cage and padlocks it shut. The key’s thrown away into the abyss; he doesn’t know where it is, where it falls, and he’s too scared to look for it.

It’s best for everyone if it stays lost.

He stares down at the thermos, blinking away the hot tears that threaten to spill and ruin what is already an unmitigated disaster. “Alright.”

“Can I ask you something, though?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you bring San along to see Jimin? You know how Wooyoung feels about him; that’s what caused this fight,” Seonghwa says, tilting his head slightly, concern etched on his handsome features.

(That’s _not_ what caused their fight,) Hongjoong thinks bitterly. He knows he should be honest, but look where that’s fucking gotten him. He’s confessed his feelings to Seonghwa almost everyday for five years and now… “Wooyoung doesn’t take other people’s feelings into account when he does things sometimes,” Hongjoong replies finally, his tone icing out. “Jimin-sunbae wanted to hang out, there’s nothing wrong with that.” He raises his eyes, catching Seonghwa’s gaze. “Wooyoung doesn’t get a monopoly on people.” There’s a pause, and he raises an eyebrow in question when Seonghwa looks at him, disappointment on his face at Hongjoong’s words. “Besides, Woo was asleep at 3 in the morning… and you’re very close with him now, so you’d know that… right? Did you want me to call him, wake him up?”

It was perhaps a low blow, but Hongjoong could have gone lower; there were more hurtful, more pointed things he can say, and he knows just how to word them. But he can’t; he loves Seonghwa too much and no matter how he feels, he can’t do it.

“Wooyoung and San need to talk to each other,” Hongjoong says, ignoring the screaming from his heart that’s desperate for him to reach out again to Seonghwa. “And we need to make them talk to each other. They’re not going to do it themselves; you know they’ll dig their heels in and make it worse. We can’t have it affect the group. But… they also forgive each other a lot quicker than most...”

Seonghwa frowns, clearly smarting, but stays silent. “What, then?” he asks finally.

“We give them a few days,” Hongjoong replies, gazing out at the middle distance, anywhere that isn’t at Seonghwa. “If they don’t get their shit together, I’m pulling them aside and forcing it.”

 _He’s upset_ , his heart cries.

 _Hug him_.

 _Kiss him_.

_He’s the only one you want to kiss. Everybody else… it feels wrong._

Stiffly, Hongjoong pushes himself up, cracking his neck. “They’re adults, we can’t baby them,” he says after a while. He looks down at Seonghwa, the light having gone out behind his dark brown eyes. “Let’s go to bed, Hwa. We have to be up early.” He holds his hand out to the eldest, forcing a small smile to curl his lips.

“...Right,” Seonghwa whispers, taking Hongjoong’s hand and rising to his feet, other hand clutching the thermos. “Joong, are you okay? You’re looking a little pale. This thing with Wooyoung, is it--”

(I love you, that’s why I look like this.) “If it’s what you want, Hwa, you shouldn’t feel guilty about it,” Hongjoong answers, but there’s no life in his answer, just the semblance of what he should be saying. “Come on, let’s go.”

“...Okay.”

Hongjoong nods, giving him another smile and a wink, helping him down the ladder - he knows how Seonghwa is with heights, so he goes down first - and never once lets go of the eldest member’s hand as they descend back down to the dorms. It’s not until their feet have reached _terra firma_ does Hongjoong let go of Seonghwa’s hand, quickly showing his own into his hoodie’s pockets to hide the shaking.

Seonghwa wants Wooyoung.

Not him.

How is he supposed to work on _Time of Love_ now?

~ * ~

This has been the strangest 48 hours of Seonghwa’s life.

And that is saying something. Idol life is unnatural and grotesque, in a way. The diets, all-nighter shoots, dancing in the snow, publicity, mingling with sunbaenims (literal celebrities) at award shows, being confined to the company of the same four to eight people for anywhere up to a decade. Seonghwa has lost count of the times he’s flopped back into bed, whether it his own or hotel, asking himself, ‘ _Did that really just happen?_ ’

Yet, in the space of barely a couple of days, he’s had a rare fight with Hongjoong, got a- frankly, amazing- blowjob from Wooyoung, attended a painfully awkward dinner with his members in which Wooyoung solicited him for sex in the bathroom and then had Hongjoong apologise to him first _and_ say ‘I love you’. _Twice_.

So, when Seonghwa flops onto his bed at his usual time of 10pm to go to sleep, he stares up at the ceiling and announces, “What in the actual fuck is going on?”

It’s all bizarre, but the most shocking thing of all… is that Hongjoong _never_ apologises first.

Well, that was that one other time. A really long time ago when they were trainees. Seonghwa wracks his brain because he thinks that was also around the first time they kissed? It makes him wonder if there’s some kind of mutual connection between the two.

Oh, what did they argue about back then?

Seonghwa groans, rubbing his temples.

This is going to drive him up the wall until he remembers. After a few minutes of thinking, he gives up and rolls over to reach for his phone on its dock.

 **Seonghwa [10:05 p.m.]  
**Hey remember when we first kissed?

The thread of a thought comes to Seonghwa. Something about drinking? No, no. Chores? No... -- Argh, Joong will remember.

 **Seonghwa [10:07 p.m.]  
**What were we fighting about back then?

Before he returns his phone to the dock, he has the sudden desire to scroll through his photo roll for one of his favourite photoshoots they’ve ever done. A really stunning, gentle concept, the members in front of a maroon background as they held various cardinal blooms. He finds Wooyoung’s photo, blond at the time, with his eyes cast down charmingly. Seonghwa feels a welcome warmth travel down his spine. He sets it as his lock screen wallpaper.

Seonghwa then scrolls through a couple more before he settles on Hongjoong’s picture and pauses to really take it in. He is. breathtaking: his flower is clasped between ring adorned fingers and thrown over his shoulder as he glances behind him. Seonghwa feels a pull from his soul to the image. He places his nose and forehead against the screen, feeling the tangible memory of Hongjoong’s skin against his own. He blinks back with a soft smile, then sets it as the home wallpaper.

 _Hongjoongie_.

His Home.

Seonghwa returns the phone to its dock, double checking that his alarm is on. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep, thoughts filled with Hongjoong and Wooyoung’s handsome faces around him, smiling, laughing, pressing into him affectionately.

He wakes up feeling good, ready to take on the day. The bathroom is a special kind of chaos this morning, like it usually becomes during a schedule. Members running in and out, showering, pampering and dressing as quickly as they can.

After breakfast, Seonghwa returns to the bathroom during his sweep across the dorms to make sure everyone’s ready to go. He finds Wooyoung as the only one there, clearly having overslept, frantically stepping into a fresh pair of sweatpants. Seonghwa exhales deeply, staring for too long. A hunger tugs at his lips as he walks forward, cruelly tugging on Wooyoung deliberately to pull him off balance. Wooyoung collapses into him in shock and Seonghwa catches him by the arms, looking down with lusty hooded eyes.

"Ah! S-Seonghwa-hyung! I-I'm sorry, my alarm didn't- I only need fi-"

Wooyoung freezes when Seonghwa bends down, placing his mouth next to his ear to whisper, "Hongjoong said yes."

As he smoothly straightens up, his smile becomes painfully fond of the man in front of him, whose mouth is currently dropped open in shock and reverence to utter the smallest, "W-Woah."

Seonghwa leans down, running his tongue on the underside of Wooyoung's lips before licking into his mouth, enjoying the fresh minty taste and the power of having a pliant Wooyoung melt into him. It ends as quickly as it begins. A tease. Wooyoung whimpers pathetically in a way that makes Seonghwa bite down on his lip.

"Let's talk about this tonight, okay? It will be our reward for all our _hard_ work."

Wooyoung stares, eyes wide, then nods furiously, now dressing himself with a new intensity. Seonghwa indulges in a smirk to himself as he leaves the bathroom, overflowing with so much positive energy that nothing could ruin his day.

A positivity that falters by the time they get to the venue for rehearsal and is in the negatives by the twelfth time their choreographer shouts, “Stop, stop, stop!” while waving her arms around.

The music on the stage cuts out with a short echo before the sound dies out to reveal an uproar of groans. Seonghwa pants, trudging to the edge of the stage and tipping some water down his throat.

“Wooyoung, San, do we need to go through the counts again?” he hears the choreographer ask, voice tight like she’s on the precipice of her patience.

Wooyoung turns up his nose, “Why don’t you ask him, I’m in my right position.”

“Oh come _on!_ ” San points an accusatory finger at Wooyoung. “He won’t stop bumping into me during the post-chorus transition! If anybody’s not paying attention, it’s him!”

“You don’t move quick enough!” Wooyoung yells back. “You’re trying to hog my center time!”

Yeosang grumbles to no one, “this migraine is going to make itself a permanent home in my brain thanks to those two.” Seonghwa’s brow creases deeply at their double-trouble duo with concern.

“No one is stealing your stupid center time, you primadonna!” San booms back, using his tenor voice to his advantage.

"Primadonna!?" Wooyoung’s voice jumps an octave higher, as if challenging the deepening of San’s voice. “Don’t blame me because you want to fuck hyu--”

No one gets to hear how the sentence finishes because San shoves Wooyoung as hard as he can, sending the dancer tumbling backwards and the entire room erupts in panic. Wooyoung recovers dangerously quick, launching off his heeled boots to tackle San, sending them both to the ground.

Seonghwa drops the water bottle and charges forward, reaching them at the same time as Hongjoong and Yunho. He manages to grab onto San as Yunho pulls him back, watching with horror as Wooyoung kicks and punches the air as much as he can while being restrained by Hongjoong.

“The hell has gotten into you two?!” Seonghwa demands, then meets Hongjoong’s eyes across the stage to furiously mouth ‘ _We fix this NOW._ ’ Hongjoong’s mouth pulls into a tight line, fixing Seonghwa with an intense stare before nodding once.

“All over a stupid Jimin picture!?” Yunho exasperates as they struggle against a sudden, violent thrash from San.

_Ah._

A realisation hits Seonghwa and he suddenly gets the sinking feeling that it is indeed _not_ over a stupid Jimin picture.

They take a twenty minute break. Wooyoung and San are separated by management, a physio checking them both over for injury. Hongjoong is off talking to Mr. Kim, KQ’s CEO who’s present for the rehearsal, so Seonghwa does the rounds on everyone else instead, making sure they’re okay. Jongho’s a little shaken so Seonghwa stays with him, giving him a warm hug and some hair stroking.

"They looked like they wanted to kill each other," Jongho mumbles sadly.

Seonghwa hums sympathetically, giving the maknae a squeeze. "Well, they're in love and they're not on the same page right now, so the frustration mounts and mounts until something small causes it to erupt. It sure doesn't help San hasn't been able to eat any mint choco for the past month," Seonghwa explains, hoping it will be sufficient.

"That makes _literally_ no sense," Jongho complains and Seonghwa just chuckles a kiss into his red hair. He doesn’t expect the question that comes next, "Have you ever been in love, Seonghwa-hyung?"

"I-"

Seonghwa’s eyes instinctively flit to Hongjoong, who he finds is seated in the stands; he’s finished his conversation with Mr. Kim so he’s by himself a few rows back. Hongjoong is completely bent over with his head pressed hard against his knees, both hands curling over the back of his neck and gripping tight enough to cause his knuckles to whiten. Seonghwa’s stomach tightens, breath in his throat. He wants to make his way over to him but the manager calls for the end of break time.

Once the whole group is back on stage, the choreographer returns with a notebook in hand. “San swap with Yunho during the chorus.”

“But that puts me at the back--” San starts and Hongjoong turns to point at him, shutting him up quickly.

“We’re going to have Hongjoong and San going wide during the post-chorus transition, so you don’t crowd Wooyoung.”

San’s eyes go wide, breathing heavy. “But--!”

“Works for me,” Yunho cuts over him, standing up straight and keeping his eyes forward.

Rehearsal goes into overtime, finishing up a couple of hours late until the AV and lighting designer are finally satisfied with the sequence on their title track. Seonghwa’s lost count of how many times they’ve run through the choreography now, his sweat drying into a sticky film all over his body. They return to the dorms to shower off, down a quick lunch and back out to the studio for more practice. Wooyoung and San haven’t looked at each other once since the outburst at the venue, and a solemn atmosphere has befallen the band that not even their friendly content lead can alleviate as she takes them through the schedule for their upcoming photoshoots and variety show appearances.

*

At 8 p.m., finally, the day wraps, having gone way over due to the costly rehearsal earlier in the day. Yunho and Yeosang decide to stay at the dance studio to keep practicing while Mingi and Jongho head back to the dorms to keep on top of their personal vocal education.

“Not you two,” Seonghwa says to Wooyoung and San, who sharply look up, disappointed. He also points to Hongjoong, “You too.”

Realisation and resignation sets on Hongjoong’s face. After an exhausting day, he likely didn’t want to have ‘ _the talk_ ’ yet but Seonghwa is resolute on ripping the bandaid off before this situation spirals out of control. Or, _more_ out of control than it has already.

“Hongjoong’s studio,” Seonghwa orders, and something odd flickers in Hongjoong’s eyes before he nods, trudging out of the dance studio towards the elevator.

When they arrive inside of Hongjoong’s studio, Seonghwa is hit with a curtain of strongly scented air freshener. He shoots Hongjoong a quizzical look, but the leader’s gaze seems to be permanently fixed to the floor, body swaying like he’s half a second from collapsing. Wooyoung and San sit down on the couch, each squishing themselves into the opposing armrests as if they’re two matching sides of a magnet being forced apart by the laws of physics. Hongjoong sits down heavily right in the middle in the dip of the cushions, head in his hands.

Seonghwa locks the door then stands in the center of the room, pausing a moment to take in the sorry sight before him. Guilt twists in him like a hot blade. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to say, “I have an apology to make to you all.”

All three men’s heads snap up to Seonghwa, each somewhere on the spectrum of shock and fear. Wooyoung’s grip visibly tightens around the armrest.

“-- Hwa, wait,” Hongjoong starts, voice cracking, but Seonghwa holds up a hand to silence him.

“I have the feeling that all this isn’t about some photo with Jimin-sunbaenim and I apologise that it’s taken me this long to figure it out.”

Wooyoung and San go white as ghosts while Hongjoong’s mouth parts, head half-shaking.

Seonghwa steels himself for what’s to come next. It’s a little embarrassing, but he has to admit when he’s wrong. He has to set a good example for the younger members. He recalls Hongjoong’s wise words from the night before, “San. Wooyoung. You’re adults now, we can’t continue to baby you.” Then Seonghwa the Mom takes over, “- and when the time comes to have a mature conversation about... sex, then that’s what we have to do.”

Hongjoong’s head falls back into his hands with a stifled, pained groan. A vein in Wooyoung’s neck looks like it might burst. San hasn’t moved, eyes round like orbs.

“This comeback’s schedule-,” Seonghwa swallows thickly, looking up to the ceiling for the right wording, “- has left me… sexually frustrated, shall we say. Hongjoong, I failed you by suppressing my truth about this fact… it’s added additional pressure on me and I believe that’s what led me to lashing out at you the other night... for that, once again, I sincerely apologise.” He takes a shaky breath, continuing, “I was aggravated because of our fight and I did... something impulsive,” his gaze finds Wooyoung, who looks like he’s on the verge of tears. Seonghwa smiles warmly at him. “Something that I don’t regret in the slightest. However, it’s my fault for not communicating my desire to the relevant parties before making my move.” His attention now turns to the others, bowing deeply. “Hongjoong, San, I beg for your forgiveness for my selfishness. I’ve hurt you both deeply.”

Seonghwa straightens up, carding the loose hair off his face. He’s almost there, he can do this. He can do this. He _has_ to do this. He’s the eldest.

“Hongjoong, I know that we’ve already come to an agreement about an arrangement with me and Wooyoungie, but I acknowledge that San has not had a say in this. Which is why I wanted to talk to you all as soon as possible. We can work this out and--”

“San doesn’t get a say!” Wooyoung suddenly exclaims, suddenly stands up, pointing at San. “This was _his_ stupid idea, he’s just having to deal with the consequences now and he’s being a little bitch about it!”

“I-Idea--?” Seonghwa repeats, stunned, eyes shifting to San.

“It. Was. A. _Joke_ ,” San seethes at Wooyoung, who’s pointed finger drops a little. “I just didn’t expect you to go ‘ _Oh? Really?! Dibs on Seonghwa!_ ’” He flails his arms around in a mocking impression to drive home the point.

“I don’t sound like that,” Wooyoung’s voice clenches, and, actually, San’s impression was pretty spot on.

“Yes, you do,” San jeers, poking out his tongue.

“Easy,” Hongjoong says warily, putting a light hand over San’s chest as Seonghwa threads his arm through Wooyoung’s arm, linking their elbows as a precautionary measure.

“You didn’t say it was a joke,” Wooyoung’s brow creases, tone faltering.

“I didn’t have time to, did I?” San snaps, angry and hurt, “all I had to do was _mention_ it and you practically bolted into hyung’s bed.”

Wooyoung jerks in the grip, so Seonghwa attempts to soothe him by shushing gently and stroking his hair a couple of times.

Hongjoong bristles. “Don’t reward him for this behaviour,” he says, speaking as if Wooyoung isn’t in the room.

Seonghwa’s face twists into a wounded look. “I’m just trying to figure out what the hell has happened. _Civilly_.”

“And I’m just trying to figure out what _San_ did with _Hongjoong-hyung_ the other night,” Wooyoung spits in San’s direction.

Hongjoong visibly flinches back, comment clearly hitting the mark. He blinks hard, dropping his gaze back to the floor and keeps it there. Seonghwa pauses, hands dropping from Wooyoung’s arm and head to regard at Hongjoong with confusion.

“Hongjoong asked me to go to Itaewon to hang out with Jimin-sunbaenim,” San says. “That’s it.”

“At two in the morning?”

“Yes.”

“And he only asked you, San?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Just doesn’t seem in our leader’s nature to single anyone out.”

“Jimin-sunbaenim just wanted one drink with a friend, not an entourage.”

He knows he should pay attention to San and Wooyoung before it becomes physical again, but Seonghwa can’t stop looking at Hongjoong, who’s sinking deeper and deeper into himself. The heartbreaking sight makes him want to reach out and hold him, kiss him, tell him it’s all going to be okay, but…

“Then why did you have to go? That’s two friends.”

“Why can’t you accept that other people who aren’t you are allowed to like Jimin?!”

“That’s not what I’m getting at.”

“Then what _are_ you getting at, Wooyoung?”

“You caught me and Seonghwa and the next minute you’re hanging out with Jimin-sunbaenim?! That sounds like a series of events, not a coincidence, so I want to know what happened in between!”

At that, Seonghwa’s head snaps to San, who catches his look for a second before glancing away, a blush rising on his cheeks. San had caught them? Seonghwa flushes, remembering that the door had been ajar.

“You came here, didn’t you San?” Wooyoung asks now, voice stony. “ _Something_ happened. I _know_ you.”

San crosses his arms, still staring at the wall. “I came here to the studio to bring Hongjoong-hyung back; Seonghwa-hyung couldn’t. Manager Sunghyon knew; I had my location tracker on the whole time.”

“Did something happen when he came here, Joong?” Seonghwa asks quietly. Hongjoong shivers a little, then hunches deeper. He’s not saying no. Something new curls in Seonghwa's stomach which he identifies as hurt. Hurt, not because something happened, but because Hongjoong felt that he had to hide a truth from Seonghwa? _Why?_ “Look at me, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong looks up, eyes red, mouth twisted into an uneven frown. The sight makes Seonghwa blink back. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about this,” is what he comes out with after a long moment. The same thing he said last night.

“I don’t,” Seonghwa replies, almost like it’s a question.

Hongjoong blinks wide before something settles on his face: abject loss, a sudden horrible ache in his eyes. His features abruptly go blank and Seonghwa feels an innate panic in his throat at the sudden change but his shoes are stuck into the floor like cement.

“I can’t believe you’d do this, San!” Wooyoung chokes out.

“ _Why?_ We are on a _break_ , aren’t we?” San shoots back in a soft voice, all but confirming it. Wooyoung stumbles back and Seonghwa numbly catches him, holding the shaking man in his arms. “You didn’t hesitate to jump into something else, what was I supposed to do? Stay here and pine after you? Forget it.”

Silence.

Long, painful silence.

One of Hongjoong’s external hard drives whirrs in the background as it begins its scheduled back-up process.

In deep thought, Hongjoong tilts his head to the side. “Well... I don’t see this getting worked out tonight, so what do we do?” he asks, his voice devoid of any feeling, but undoubtedly in Leader Mode™.

Seonghwa nearly starts at the verbal white flag of defeat. After a long pause, he says flatly, “comeback comes first.”

“I agree,” Hongjoong says. “We’ll put on an act for the cameras if we have to. We don’t want to be worrying ATINY when they work so hard for us. Our company has already had to pay overtime on the venue today thanks to the four of us; any more fuck ups like that and we’re in big trouble.”

There’s quiet as they all nod but Seonghwa can’t help but sense an invisible wall building up thicker and thicker in the atmosphere between himself, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong and San.

Hongjoong stands up, flicking his head to the side sharply in an attempt to fling his tears off his face that’s surprisingly successful. “...If that’s everything, I need to get back to finishing this album; I was supposed to have started on this hours ago.”

“Okay, H-.. Leader,” Seonghwa nods slowly. “Wooyoung, San, come on.”

“I’m staying,” San says, meeting Seonghwa’s gaze with a defiant stare.

“Fine,” Seonghwa says, threading his fingers in Wooyoung’s hand to clasp it tightly. Something to ground himself as much as it is a comfort for Wooyoung. “Message me if there’s anything I can do--” A pause. “-- regarding the comeback.”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong mutters, slumping down in his chair and tapping hard on the keyboard to wake his computer up.

Something bitter and sad bubbles up in Seonghwa’s throat, a dizzying dread and fear, threatening to swallow him up but he quickly pushes it down. He’s the eldest. He needs to be strong for his members. Strong for his family. Strong for KQ. Strong for ATINY.

Strong for Hongjoong, even if he hates Seonghwa.

He leaves with Wooyoung, the younger member’s trembling hand held painfully tight as they stop in front of the elevator and Seonghwa pushes the button. There’s a shocked silence between them as they wait. Finally, the machine sounds and the doors peel away for them to step inside the graciously empty elevator. Seonghwa pushes the button for the floor of the dance studio and breathes in deeply. There’s a fear choking him silent, swollen and thick in his throat, but he has to be brave.

Seonghwa steels himself, then unthreads his hand from Wooyoung’s tight fingers to bend down and place his hands on either side of the younger member’s face instead. His expression settles into a warm smile, summoning up all his strength to do so.

“Are you okay, Woo? That was pretty intense.”

Wooyoung nods automatically, then, after a second, his upper lip begins to shake and his features morph into heartbroken shape as he lets out a hysterical wail. “Sannie’s so mad at me!” he sobs, high-pitched, voice thick with unrestrained tears. Seonghwa has never felt so guilty in his life, not knowing what to do in that moment other than collect Wooyoung up in his arms and rock him gently.

“I’m so sorry, my baby. This is all my fault. I’ll fix this, I promise,” Seonghwa whispers hoarsely.

If Wooyoung had a reply, it’s swallowed up by shudders and hiccups as he buries his head into Seonghwa’s shirt, big wet globules of tears soaking through the material.

The elevator dings for their floor.

~ * ~

He perhaps shouldn’t have been as surprised as he is to have San flop down beside him on the couch one evening following the unrivalled disaster that was The Talk with Seonghwa and Wooyoung, but he is. The younger member doesn’t say anything, and instead leans against Hongjoong’s shoulder, closing his eyes and exhaling softly. After a moment’s pause, Hongjoong shifts and glances down at the pink-haired man. “Sannie?” he tries, a gentle prompt.

“I can leave if you don’t want me around,” San replies softly, almost in defeat. “Nobody else does.”

Something stabs in Hongjoong’s chest, knowing exactly what San is referring to. The fight at rehearsal set everyone on edge, and the talk afterwards in the studio only made things worse. Hongjoong exhales slowly and despite himself, reaches over to card his fingers through San’s soft, hot pink hair. The gesture startles San, who knows full well that Hongjoong is not a touchy feely person, and he looks up at the leader with wide eyes.

“That’s not true,” Hongjoong says, shaking his head. “Things are tense right now, but I don’t think that they don’t want you around. We’re all feeling the pressure from the Company and we’re starting to crack under the pressure; we’re only human.”

San blinks, and looks down at his hands. “I fucked this up,” he confesses, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have made that joke, I shouldn’t have tried to cover for myself by making it seem like it was a plan to help you and hyung… I just didn’t think… I didn’t expect…”

“…me neither,” Hongjoong agrees, saving the younger man from voicing a painful truth. “It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.”

The pink-haired vocalist frowns but nods, and the rustle of paper catches his attention. “…What were you doing?”

“Oh, this?” Knowing that San is only asking for a distraction, and Hongjoong is desperate for one, he tilts the sketchbook over to him. “I’m … I’ve got a tattoo scheduled in a week and I’m finalizing the design.”

San’s cheeks turn pink at the mention of his tattoo, and Hongjoong wonders if he shouldn’t feel a strange rush of pride at the reaction. “Oh, another one? The company is okay with it?”

Hongjoong nods. “As long as it isn’t anything offensive and can be reasonably hidden, they’re okay with it. — you interested in getting one?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” San admits, his cat-like eyes curiously peeking at the design. On Hongjoong’s sketchpad is a detailed drawing of a torso, with a rough sketch of his microphone and rose music tattoo. There’s a second rough sketch on his left pectoral, more for location confirmation than a detailed picture. As San’s eyes shift down the page, he sees a more detailed drawing of a pair of headphones with a long, curling cord complete with audio jack, and a beautifully designed logo on the outward facing ear cup. He peers closer, trying to read the word that’s skillfully hidden in the design.

 _MARS_.

Started and with a rush of guilt washing over him, San bites his lip and looks up at Hongjoong, who just looks back at him sadly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s not _your_ fault, Sannie, it’s mine,” Hongjoong replies quietly. “And I’m getting it anyway.”

Surprise colours San’s handsome features and he tilts his head, almost like a cat. “Why?”

The question is simple, but with a complicated answer. “Because even though … even though Hwa’s made his choice, and what … who he wants isn’t me, I still…” Hongjoong looks down at the sketchpad. “It doesn’t change how I feel. Tattoos are permanent, and I look at them as a piece of history of my life. Sometimes things feel good, and sometimes… they feel like they do now. But it’s still happening, it’s not something that can be erased. So… maybe I wanna immortalize it still. Work through these … fucking bullshit feelings with the process. — sorry. I know I’m not making any sense.”

“No, you do,” San replies softly, his expression thoughtful. The pads of his fingers trail along the drawing of the pair of headphones, and Hongjoong can see the gears turning. “I think I’d like one too. Or maybe, just to design one. I like how you approach it, hyung. Maybe it’ll help … with how I feel.” He chews at his lip. “But… hyung.”

“...yeah?”

“We should… talk about… what happened between us.”

Hongjoong stiffens, but he knows San’s right; not talking got them into a giant mess, and as much as he’d like to forget that he didn’t just torpedo his own chances at happiness, it’s not something that’s going anyway - he’d said it himself. “... all right.”

San shifts on his seat, running a hand through his fluffy, pink hair, devoid of product. “If… Seonghwa-hyung and Wooyoung are going to sleep together… what about us? Is it… something _we_ wanna do?”

That… isn’t where Hongjoong thought he’d go. “Wouldn’t it make things worse?” he asks finally, as it’s apparently time for honesty power hour over here. “We acted impulsively the first time and it caused a lot of damage.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t start this, they did,” San points out. “I mean, we still slept together and we still probably shouldn’t have, but… it’s not black and white. It’s like fifty shades of fucked up. We’re all messy and we’re all responsible.”

A soft snort escapes Hongjoong at that, and he shakes his head. “No argument about that one.”

“What do you think, though?”

Hongjoong glances at him. “You mean about having a similar arrangement?”

San nods. “Yeah. We keep it confined to the two of us and that way it doesn’t spiral out and affect the rest of the group. It’s just stress relief… I don’t think you and I are capable of anything more of that.” He looks down at his hands. “Not while we’re still hung up on Hwa-hyung and Woo.”

Sometimes San can be ridiculous and wild, but at other times he has tremendous emotional maturity, Hongjoong thinks, a small but strong undercurrent of fondness gaining steam in his heart that’s still locked in its cage. “That’s probably for the best,” Hongjoong agrees. “The less we bother them, the better.”

The vocalist holds out his hand, causing the leader to blink at him. “Do you, Kim Hongjoong, agree to be my, Choi San’s, fuck buddy during the hell that is this comeback and possibly further to which time we mutually agree to stop?”

Another amused snort comes out of Hongjoong and he reaches out, shaking San’s hand firmly. “Aa. I agree. We keep this quiet, and we keep it discreet. We don’t bother anybody else.”

“Agreed,” San confirms. “--can we try designing my tattoo?”

Hongjoong blinks, then smiles a little. “Sure, let’s give it a try. So first things first, how big are you thinking? They’re always going to be about 50% bigger than you think because of detail. Second, placement. Do you want it on your arm? Maybe upper forearm, or upper arm, somewhere easily hidden… we have to think about the job and what the company wants from us.”

San sucks on his teeth and nods. “I’m doing the ab reveal this comeback,” he says, a bit shy. “I saw some of the pictures of the outfits for the MV and stages… nothing on the chest.” He blushes, and ducks his head. “Or upper torso. But my … m-my arms will be covered, everything else is okay.”

With a hum, Hongjoong turns slightly to San and takes his hand in his, turning it palm up. “Here?” he asks, running a finger along San’s wrist, just below the bend. “We can hide it with bracelets, but enough can show that ATINY will like catching glimpses. I know you like teasing them.”

The smile that curls at San’s lips is worth the how lame he feels teasing the vocalist, Hongjoong reasons. “Here is good,” San confirms, trailing his fingers along the same spot Hongjoong did. “I don’t know what to pick, though… the last time I tried it was something random and I panicked. It should be something important, right?”

“It can be anything,” Hongjoong points out. “If you like whales, get a whale. All that matters is that you like it and you’d be happy with having it on you. But for your first one, it might help to think of something important to you; might give you the courage to go through with it.”

He can see San’s expression change briefly to remorse, no doubt thinking about Wooyoung. Sympathetically, Hongjoong reaches out and touches San’s knee. “MAMA, 2020,” San says after a long moment, his eyes flicking up to catch Hongjoong’s gaze. “I… I was chosen to be one of the flag bearers, but also…” He smiles, the memory coming back to him clearer and clearer as he talks, “I was chosen to do the three-way dance with Hyunjin-ssi and Juyeon-ssi. They’re both really amazing dancers and… I got to dance with them! I held my own! I didn’t … I didn’t embarrass anyone.”

“You could never embarrass us, Sannie,” Hongjoong says quietly, a smile on his lips.

San’s surprise at the earnest compliment from their Leader sends a shiver down his spine and he smiles, bashful. “I remember how they’d tell me I was a shitty dancer,” he says instead, looking down at his hands. “But now… now I’m dancing alongside two really incredible dancers… and everybody saw.” He nods. “I want… to remember that, to… honour it. That I worked hard and it’s paying off.”

“That’s a really good choice,” Hongjoong agrees, and he means it. San’s always pushed himself hard, maybe overcompensating for the constant feedback that he’s nothing but a visual, that his position in the band is just because of his looks. Nothing could be further from the truth, but Hongjoong knows all too well how even though one tells themselves not to listen to the negative comments, they stick the most. “You showed everybody what Choi San is capable of.” He smiles. “And that you won’t be ignored.”

San brightens at this and he shifts, pulling his legs up and folding them underneath him, now sitting cross-legged on the couch. “But I don’t wanna get a tattoo of myself. That’s too much.”

“A little,” Hongjoong says with a laugh. “Hmm… the flag is a good start, actually. — so what I like to do is think of important elements from the memory. So we’ll start with the flag…” he trails off, starting on a fresh page and drawing a flag, tattered and tied to a weather-worn piece of wood. “Add some curling here to give it movement… and maybe our compass… gotta have our debut date coordinates… — oh, you know what’ll make this pop?”

The vocalist jumps at being asked a question, but is attentive. “What?”

“Let’s use the design elements from our costumes,” Hongjoong explains, grinning. “The feathers, the skulls, it’ll contain everything, give it a structure. See?”

San brightens as everything clicks into place. “That looks so cool, hyung!” he enthuses, peering closer at the picture. “Oh, do you think it’d be too much to add symbols from Stray Kids and The Boyz? I wanna honour Juyeon-ssi and Hyunjin-ssi too; they were a big part of the triumvirate fight.”

Hongjoong’s heart clenches slightly; San’s so caring, and too sweet for his own good. Even on something that’s entirely for himself, he wants to bring attention to the hard work that others do. “That sounds perfect,” he agrees quietly. He adds the star from the Stray Kids Lightstick as the decoration of a shield propped up on the ground, and ‘engraves’ the acronym ‘TBZ’ on a crown that hangs off the top of the flag stick. “How’s this?”

“Ah, hyung! Perfect!” San exclaims, picking up the sketchbook and holding it up to get a better look. His eyes are shining and Hongjoong feels a sense of relief that San’s smiling again. “I want get this done.”

Surprise colours the rapper’s face. “Are you sure?”

San nods firmly. “No more overthinking,” he replies firmly. “I’ll tell the company myself and everything.”

Hongjoong nods slowly, surprised but knowing that once San decides on something, he’s not going to back down. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

“Can I add one more thing?” “Yeah, of course.” They finalize the first draft of the design that night, and resolve to speak to management in the morning.

The talk with their manager and staff from the company goes smoother than Hongjoong expects. They give the go-ahead for San to get his tattoo, only having the suggestion/instruction that San get it on his upper left arm so it’s easier to hide with shirts and his dominant hand isn’t sore; an easy compromise to make.

 _***Hongjoong created NEW GROUP: Tattoo Crew (Jimin, Jungkook, Hongjoong)*  
**_ **_*Hongjoong added San to: Tattoo Crew*_ **

**Hongjoong [7:25 p.m.]  
**Can Sannie come with me on Saturday?

 **Jungkook [7:30 p.m.]  
**That’s fine with me  
Are you getting one too, Sannie?

 **San [7:31 p.m.]  
**Eventually!  
But I don’t think I can get one with you hyungs.  
It takes a while to book, doesn’t it?

 **Jimin [7:40 p.m.]  
**Actually the shop has a cancellation around the same time  
They can fit you in provided it’s not like a full back tattoo  
… is it a lower back tattoo?

 **San [7:41 p.m.]  
**!!!  
No!  
Upper arm!

 **Jimin [7:43 p.m.]  
**Shame  
you’d look cute with one ;)

 **Jungkook [7:45 p.m.]  
**Hyung, pls.  
You should get yours done at the same time, Sannie!  
It’ll be a bonding experience  
or something

 **Hongjoong [7:46 p.m.]  
**Or something lol  
But having moral support helps a lot

 **Jungkook [7:47 p.m.]  
**Yeah, Jimin-hyung cried during his first one

 **Jimin [7:50 p.m.]  
**I’m going to knock you out

 **Jungkook [7:51 p.m.]  
**Do it  
I need a nap

 **Hongjoong [7:53 p.m.]  
**See you guys Saturday  
Or just one of you idk  
I’ll tell dispatch

 **San [7:54 p.m.]  
**We can finally leak our own stories?  
Score!

~ * ~

At their usual family/team meeting after dinner on Friday, San exhales slowly and looks over at Hongjoong, who nods back to him. “So we’re just going over weekend plans,” Hongjoong starts, setting into his leader role. “This is a rare one where we only have a variety show Saturday morning and photos for the Fan Café that will be about an hour or so. Sunday you’re off from any schedules so use the time to rest if you can. What is everyone doing?”

“Sleeping,” Yeosang mutters, garnering a burst of tired laughter from the group.

“Same,” Jongho agrees, sighing. “I need to rest my voice.”

Yunho rubs his neck and looks over at Mingi. “We’ve got plans to get out to that new arcade in Itaewon, spend the day out there. Mr. Mun’s coming with us though so we won’t be alone. Might film a LIVE out there.”

“What about you?” Seonghwa asks Hongjoong, his voice soft.

Hongjoong tenses beside San, but it’s gone in an instant and he’s in professional mode. “I’m getting a tattoo with Jimin-sunbae and Jungkook-sunbae Saturday night. Sannie’s getting one too, so he’s coming with; Management already knows and Security’s been arranged with both KQ and Big Hit. The appointment’s late in the evening, around 7 p.m., so we probably won’t be back until after 10 p.m. Hopefully no later than midnight, but it’s Jimin-sunbae, so who knows with him. We might end up joining the circus or something.”

Silence ripples throughout the table and San holds his breath. His eyes flick towards Seonghwa and Wooyoung, who both look shell shocked. “You’re both going to get tattoos?” Wooyoung asks, his voice cracking slightly. He glances at San. “I thought… you didn’t want to get one yet.”

“It’s been a really rough time lately,” San admits, rubbing his neck. “I’m not myself anymore. I’ve been talking with hyung a lot lately, and I think… I think this is good to work through some… pretty ugly feelings I’ve been having. I don’t want… what happened before to happen again. It’s not me. And it’s not fair to everyone. It’s… not fair to you.” He smiles, putting on a brave face. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be the same ol’ cute Sannie.” He makes an aggressively cute aegyo sound and pokes his dimples, causing Jongho to reflexively punch him in the arm. “Ow!”

“Now you’re hanging out with Jungkook-sunbae too?” Jongho asks, pouting. “Stop taking everyone’s idols.”

“I’m not _taking_ them,” San protests. “I love you the most, Jongie!” He latches onto the youngest, nuzzling him. As Jongho groans and tries to shove him off, San looks over at the rest of the table under the guise of getting more attention, but it’s really to see how Seonghwa and Wooyoung are reacting. His eyes catch sight of Wooyoung holding Seonghwa’s hand underneath the table, and he stiffens, turning his attention back to harassing Jongho. “Do you wanna come too?”

“No,” Jongho mumbles. “I should rest. But you better send a selca.”

“For you? _Anything_ ,” San agrees, making a kissy face.

Yeosang raises an eyebrow at Hongjoong. “How are you such good friends with Jimin-sunbae anyway?”

“We met one night in a bar,” Hongjoong answers, running a hand through his long hair, now shaggy and sharply cut, a mix of the mullet from the _Say My Name_ era and the undercuts he’d been known for as of late. “It was around the time they were working on _Map of the Soul: 7_ and he was stressing out over his songs with Taehyung-sunbae and his solo, and everything else. I was stressed out in general so we became drinking buddies. Usually it’s just the two of us, but Taehyung-sunbae has come along sometimes, and Jungkook-sunbae was there when I got my first tattoo and he got his sleeve.” He shrugs. “They’re cool about hanging out and I don’t make a fuss. It works out.”

It’s a reasonable answer, and one that makes sense given the world that they live in. The majority of the group seems satisfied with the answer and San realizes that Wooyoung and Seonghwa haven’t said anything. “I’m just surprised,” Wooyoung says, looking at Seonghwa before the rest of the table. “You two don’t really…hang out with each other.”

San’s eyes narrow for a second. “I could say the same for you and Hwa-hyung,” he says, forcing his voice into some semblance of civillity. “You know that the group dynamics shift all the time. If you wanna hang out, just say so; I’m not going to wait around for it, though. It’s not fair.”

It comes out a bit more firm than San intended, but he needs to put the boundaries down. He can’t keep putting himself out at sea for Wooyoung; it’s not fair to either one of them. He knows Wooyoung loves with his whole body, and there’s so much of that love to give; it can’t be restrained to just one person. But San isn’t like Wooyoung; his heart has been set on one person the whole time and he gets sulky and upset and restless when he’s not around that person.

But now that person has chosen someone else.

So he has to be strong. He has to work on moving on because he doesn’t want the love of his life to be upset with him.

As much as he’s sulking and fighting back right now while in the depths of his rubbed raw emotions, he doesn’t want Wooyoung to look at him like he has been for much longer. So he has to take the reins and get his shit together. If Wooyoung wants to be with Seonghwa, that’s okay, there’s nothing forcing ‘WooSan’ to be together minus company mandated fan service.

San will do his best to move on. At least he’s not alone; Hongjoong’s in the same boat. Somehow it makes the heartbreak easier to handle.

“I’m glad you all figured this out,” Yunho says, rubbing his neck. “We were worried.”

San forces a bright smile and shakes his head. “Don’t worry, hyung. I won’t let anything happen to us. 8 makes 1 team, right?” He winks and clenches his fist, punching it up into the air a little.

He has to be strong. He has to control his feelings.

Feelings that got him into this mess in the first place.

The rest of the “family meeting” goes relatively well, just hammering out details and confirming that no one’s changed their numbers left to confirm. Hongjoong runs through the schedule and talking points for the show they’re to be on Saturday morning - the show has a habit of pranking them as soon as they enter the building - and confirms the fan service details.

Hongjoong flicks his gaze up to look at the group. “Remember to be cognizant of your actions; ATINY will see every glance, every touch and we need to be aware. Don’t do anything nuts; we got talked to the last time and with the fight at rehearsal, we’re on a short leash. Everybody understand?”

“Yes!” comes the chorus, well-rehearsed.

“Good, thank you, everyone,” Hongjoong says with a faint smile. “Let’s make it through tomorrow and you all get a nice, well deserved break.”

“...what about you?” Seonghwa asks, despite himself. “You get Sunday off too, right?”

Hongjoong shakes his head. “EDEN and I have to finish the album; he’s not happy with what I’ve been sending him for the rest of the tracks, so he’s taken it upon himself to hover. I’ll be there with him till midday Monday, but it’ll probably be the whole day the way this shit’s been going.”

Seonghwa starts. “You’re staying overnight?”

“Have to,” Hongjoong replies, gaze flicking down to his agenda. “They’re not happy with me, so I get extra eyes. I’ll make it work, though; March 1 isn’t that far away.” His gaze darkens for a second but he blinks it away and he smiles at the group. “Let’s work hard, everyone; we’re almost at the end.” He nods and winks. “Dismissed.”

As the group naturally drifts off to their evening rituals, San hangs back and looks over at Hongjoong. “We’re meeting Jimin-sunbae and Jungkook-sunbae at the parlour, right?” he asks, scratching his cheek. “The texts were kind of confusing.”

“It’s hard to parse Jimin-sunbae sometimes,” Hongjoong agrees. “Yeah, we’re all meeting there. JK-sunbae and Jimin-sunbae will reach there first and let us know when it’s secure. We’ll come and get it all done at once. They’re gonna shut the shop down so it’ll just be the four of us there and the artists… and our security.”

“...do you think we should’ve asked Hwa-hyung and Woo to come?” San asks, his voice hesitant.

“...do you want them there?” Hongjoong asks in return. “We can ask them now if you want.”

San slowly shakes his head. “I don’t think...it’d be wise. We’re both… things are still raw, I wanna figure myself out before we’re alone with them again. Is that… bad?”

“Whatever you need to do to take care of yourself, do it, Sannie,” Hongjoong replies seriously. “If you need to talk to someone, let me know. The staff has qualified people we can talk to.”

San shakes his head again. “Maybe not that… maybe not now. Maybe later. But… maybe. -- they seem upset we’re doing this together.”

“I know,” Hongjoong says, sighing as he rubs his face. “But just like they’re figuring out whatever they’re doing, we have to figure ourselves out. It makes sense we’d be talking to each other; I don’t know what they expected. Then again… they’ve figured out that we...” He pushes himself up and shakes his head, the guilt still too much. “If you want, we can talk to them again afterwards.”

“...I’ll see how I feel,” San says, and it’s the truth.

Hongjoong nods. “Okay.”

“What about you and Seonghwa-hyung?”

Something resembling emotion passes through Hongjoong’s eyes but it’s stamped out in an instant, the leader facade returning. “We’ve agreed to put the comeback first,” he repeats, “what he does in his off time is up to him. I’ve got to make peace with it… it’s my fault this happened, anyway.”

That’s twice now he’s said that.

“How is it _your_ fault?” San asks, frowning.

Hongjoong huffs softly. “Why do you think Seonghwa’s had to go to Wooyoung for something more intense?” he says, leaving it at that while he leaves the table, his work cellphone buzzing off the hook. “Hello, EDEN-sunbaenim. Yeah, I’m coming to the studio right now.” He gives a nod to San and leaves, tension radiating off his slender frame.

*

San is wearing a sleeveless black shirt with some kind of nonsensical design on the front, and a loose zip-up hoodie overtop a pair of somewhat fashionable tapered sweatpants. Fashionable in that they aren’t grey, loose, or plain but with some kind of design on them. He checks himself in the mirror, pulling on a knitted toque to hide his pink hair as best he can, tucking stray strands in with a little sigh. He looks down at the desk, where a thin folder rests with his tattoo design on it – Hongjoong told him to keep looking at it until the absolute last moment to make triple sure that he wants it.

He does want it.

Quickly, though, San picks up the folder and flips it open, looking at the design. He’d popped into the tattoo parlour with Hongjoong to speak with the artist, and they refined the design to a near-perfect state. His eyes rake over the design and a smile comes to his lips as he sees the SKZ shield, the TBZ crown, and the ATZ Flag, encircled by a wreath of green, silver, and black feathers, with a skull wearing the HALA HALA hat and face mask resting beside the SKZ shield.

The smile turns sad when his eyes fall on the last minute addition that he added with the artist’s input. Imprinted in the wooden flagstaff is a carving of a fox’s head with Wooyoung’s trademark smirk and wink. His fingers trail along the little symbol and his heart aches.

“Hey, you ready?”

Hongjoong’s voice startles him out of his thoughts and he nods, quickly sweeping up the paper and its folder. “Ready!” San confirms.

“Nervous?” Hongjoong looks exhausted, but he’s still smiling.

“Yeah, but it’s like going on stage,” San reasons. “I’m always ready to puke when we perform but I get through it because I love what we do. So… this is the same. But it’s more for me this time.” He nods. “Let’s go.”

Hongjoong nods and turns, dressed comfortably himself but undoubtedly in his unique style. His hoodie is baggier and it makes sense; he’s getting a rather large addition to his upper torso, and he’s going to want something loose fitting for the ride back. “That’s a good way to handle it,” he says, nodding. As they reach the main area of the dorms, Hongjoong calls out, “we’re leaving! If this place is burnt down, just tell Dispatch it’s not my fault!”

“No promises!” Yeosang yells back.

“Don’t join a gang with your fresh ink!” Yunho adds.

“If you do, lemme know because you’d probably join a cool one!” Mingi finishes.

Hongjoong rolls his eyes and gestures with a hand for San to follow him, where they get to the company approved car, which already has their security detail inside. The ride to the parlour is quiet, and Hongjoong is typing away on his phone. The Leader catches his gaze and smiles. “Just touching base with the staff and security for Big Hit that’s already there at the tattoo place,” he explains.

“You have to do that too?” San asks, impressed.

“I need to be involved one way or another,” Hongjoong confirms. “Even if Mr. Yoo is physically coming with us and has set up everything, I need to be aware of everything that’s going on. If anybody goes anywhere, they have to tell the staff and me so we all know. This is trickier because we’re in two different companies, but man, group chats are super helpful.”

“Wow… don’t you get any help?”

Hongjoong smiles at that. “You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that? It’s fine. It’s what I signed up for when I agreed to be leader.” He looked out the window. “We’re here, still wanna do this?”

“Yeah,” San confirms. He feels a bubbling anxiousness as he feels the car slow to a stop and the security get out first, waiting for the signal before he and Hongjoong are escorted out and into the parlour. Inside it’s empty save for the Big Hit security, the artists, Jimin and Jungkook.

Jungkook brightens and waves. “You made it!” he greets happily.

Hongjoong and San bow deeply, tugging down their masks to smile in return. “Good to see you guys. What are you even getting?” Hongjoong asks, straightening up. “You two were being so cagey about it.”

“They’re _Nightmare Before Christmas_ inspired,” Jimin explains excitedly. “Jungkookie and I watch it every Halloween so we thought we’d get a little something to commemorate it.”

Hongjoong smiles a little. “That’s very… you two. Where are you getting them?”

Jungkook grins and slaps his upper thigh. “Right here. Big, meaty thigh.”

“I always thought he’d get RM-hyung’s name there but he’s proven me wrong yet again,” Jimin says blithely, avoiding a smack from their group’s maknae.

Jungkook rolls his eyes but soon becomes as excited as a large puppy as he shows them the medium sized designs: both of Jack Skellington, but with two different outfits. Jimin’s has Jack in his standard black tux with a confident smirk and a lyric: _My bones call out for something unknown_ , while Jungkook’s is Jack in his tattered Santa outfit and the lyric _what the heck I went and did my best_. Both had a gothic frame encircling the character and the lyrics were on tattered parchment.

“Wow, this looks really cool!” San exclaims, his eyes lighting up as he looks between the pair of tattoos. “They look like they work together but they’re individual too. A really nice pair tattoo...”

His face suddenly falls.

_“I’m sorry, Wooyoungie. I thought I could do it.”_

_“It’s okay! Let’s get tattoos together next time, Sannie. We’ll get a pair set! I know you’ll have the confidence to do it.”_

_“Do you really think so?”_

_“I know so. You’re braver than you think, Sannie. I’ll be with you the whole way.”_

_“Thank you, Woo.”_

_“Wanna get ice cream?”_

_“...Mint choco?”_

_“Okay~”_

He doesn’t realize that he’s breathing rapidly or that his vision is doubling until Jungkook is looking at him with wide, doe-brown eyes, his hands on his shoulders. “Hey, can you hear me?” Jungkook asks, his lips curled into a concerned frown. “Just match my breathing, okay, Sannie? In, out, in, out… you’re doing great, Sannie. Perfect!”

“S-Sorry,” San breathes, looking around at all the concerned faces surrounding him. “I just… I’m fine to keep going, I just remembered… I was supposed to do something similar with Wooyoung, but…” He shook his head. “I need to do this for me right now, before any of that. I’m not in the right space to do things for anybody else.”

Jungkook watches him carefully, tilting his head to the side but he doesn’t respond for a long moment. “Okay,” he says finally with a small, comforting smile. “Jiminie-hyung and I are gonna go first, though, so you can catch your breath. The artist isn’t gonna work on you while you look like you’re gonna hurl.”

“Fair,” San agrees, smiling weakly. “Thank you. Sorry.”

Jimin smiles and gives San a tight hug. “You’re okay,” he says quietly, nuzzling him. “Take your time and take some deep breaths. Hang off Hongjoongie and make sure he takes care of you, okay?” he looks to Hongjoong and points two fingers at his eyes, pointing back at the younger leader. “I’m watching you.”

Hongjoong holds up his hands and smiles. “Understood. Under threat from one Park Jimin of _Bangtan Sonyeondan_ , I will consent to being hung off of.” He comes over and gives San’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Let’s talk to the artists, okay, Sannie? Jimin-sunbae and Jungkook-sunbae have bigger pieces so they’ve gotta start first.”

San nods and bows deeply, allowing himself to be led off to a different, but closer part of the parlour, sitting down and apologizing to his artist. He’s lucky that they’re understanding, and that Hongjoong hasn’t let go of his hand. He hates how emotional he gets, how much people have to babysit him; he can do this.

He _has_ to do this.

Hongjoong sits on his other side while the artist lays the stencil down, going from his shoulder down to the midpoint of his arm, just above where a standard t-shirt sleeve would hang. San’s been working on his arms, so the muscle is well toned and provides a good canvas. After running through the colours one more time and giving San a little feel for the pain, the artist asks if he’s ready.

_“I can’t do it! I’m sorry.”_

_“it’s okay, Sannie. We’ll just pay the cancellation fee and move on.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“Hey, no one’s going to force you to do this.”_

_“…I’m a wimp.”_

_“No, you’re not.”_

San nods. He can be brave.

He looks at Hongjoong, who nods back and gives his right hand a squeeze. “You can do it, Sannie. But if you need to stop, just say so. We can always finish it another time.”

“He’s right,” the artist agrees. “Some people can power through and some people need a couple of sessions, no matter the size. If you feel faint, let me know. No judgment. We don’t want you fainting. Even big tough guys need a break.”

San nods. “Thank you. I’m ready.” He closes his eyes and exhales sharply as the artist presses the needle to his skin. It feels… well, it feels like someone is dragging a needle up his skin. None of the articles he read really prepared him for this, but it’s also not as bad as he envisioned. It’s strangely soothing, and San finds himself drifting off with Hongjoong’s hand in his as the artist works first on the outline, then fills in the details and colours. A laughing Hongjoong rouses him from his sleep and he blinks owlishly at the older man.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, you’re done.”

“I-I am?” San startles and looks at his arm, which has now been wiped down and wrapped in a protective, clear bandage. “O-oh. That wasn’t bad at all.”

The artist laughs. “Not the first time someone’s fallen asleep during a tat. You took it like a champ, though! – here, let me show you what it looks like with a mirror.” He picks up a hand mirror and turns it so that San can see the angles of the finished piece before it gets too red, too swollen. “What do you think?”

San’s eyes are wide as he stares at the reflection of the tattoo. It’s beautiful, exquisitely and skillfully done, just as he pictured – no, even better – and the little fox symbol on the flag staff is a bright orange, standing out amongst the dark colours of the tattoo. “It’s amazing, thank you so much!” he says, his voice thick. “I can’t believe… I did it.”

Hongjoong’s smile is gentle as he squeezes San’s hand. “You were great, Sannie. Now it’s just me and we can get out of here. I’ll help you with the aftercare, but listen to what your artist says, okay? The info’s also being sent to our manager.”

“R-Right.” It’s difficult to focus, but San tries his best to listen to the artist, looking down at the cheat sheet that he’s given, and parroting back what the artist says to him.

He’s then moved over to the station where Hongjoong is getting set up, having pulled off his hoodie and shirt, and his upper torso tattoo just as breathtaking as the first time he’d seen it. The chair is reclined back to a flat position and up so the artist is at a comfortable height to work at the tattoo. Hongjoong looks relaxed, chatting amicably with the artist as they apply the stencil of the headphones.

San’s breath catches in his throat as he realizes that the headphone jack from Seonghwa’s headphones is being ‘plugged into’ the microphone’s base, connecting the two. His heart clenches, and again he’s overcome with guilt at ruining their relationship. As much as Hongjoong tells him that it’s his fault and not San’s, the vocalist can’t help but feel responsible. It takes two to tango, after all. He feels even worse seeing that the headphones are resting on Hongjoong’s left pectoral, right where his heart is.

“Hyung…” he starts, biting his lip.

“I told you, it’s okay,” Hongjoong replies, smiling. “It’s a part of my life whether it’s a good memory or a bad one. I’m not going to not get it just because I messed up.”

Jungkook grins as he hangs over San’s back, being mindful of his fresh tattoo. “Ah, we’re just in time to watch Hongjoongie get his!”

Jimin appears at San’s other side, loosely taking the vocalist’s arm in his. “Have you ever thought about quitting music and being an artist full time, Hongjoongie? I can’t believe you designed your tats.”

“Definitely sounding good while we’re in crunch,” Hongjoong admits, and for a second, San can see the playful façade that Hongjoong has had up falter. “Alright, Zero-ssi, let’s go.”

Zero, the tattoo artist, laughs and nods, firing up the tattoo needle. Hongjoong is not as relaxed as San, but he seems to be using the pain and adrenaline spike as some kind of repentance. His breathing is shallow, and his eyes are staring dead ahead, not at Jimin, Jungkook or San. He seems to be in his own world, forcibly keeping his body relaxed enough that he’s not jostling the artist or their needle. The colour is vibrant and mimics street art, and San’s impressed at how different each person’s tattoo can be; Hongjoong’s is undoubtedly him, as is Jimin and Jungkook’s are to their personal styles. Even his own looks so different.

“I wish we could have done this for a LIVE,” San jokes, snapping Hongjoong’s attention to him. “I think ATINY would have died getting to see your bare chest. They lost it seeing Jongie’s forehead.”

Hongjoong snorts. “When they see your abs, they’ll go into cardiac arrest.” He smirks. “Do I need to tell Manager Sunghyon that we need more baby oil?”

San flushes a dark pink as Jimin cackles in his ear and Jungkook’s laugh reaches a fever pitch, something akin to an Elmo doll. “We don’t need baby oil in general!”

“That’s not what the stylist noonas are saying,” Hongjoong replies blithely, wincing only briefly when the artist starts the detail work on the MARS design on the ear cup. He swallows, falling silent, obviously thinking about Seonghwa and San wants to take his hand in his… so he does. Hongjoong starts and looks at him, smiling weakly. “Thanks, Sannie…”

“It’s okay,” San repeats to him, nodding firmly. “We’ll get through this together, hyung. It’s gonna suck, but we’re not going through it alone.”

Jungkook frowns thinly and shares a look with Jimin. “Are you two okay?” he asks carefully.

“It’s complicated,” San explains, shifting on his feet. “But… I guess we’re trying to figure out what to do when the person you love loves someone else? The feelings don’t stop… and you see them everyday… so how do you deal with it without screwing up everything worse than you already have?”

“Booze,” Jimin replies instantly.

“—He means time,” Jungkook corrects quickly, waving a hand. “You eventually figure out how much you can take and what you can let slide because you don’t have a choice. I’d honestly talk to a therapist from the company’s list of approved ones; Yoongi-hyung talks to one and he says it helps him a lot. We’ve all gone from time to time, even in big group appointments.”

Jimin nods. “When we were thinking about disbanding in 2018, we were going to them every week.”

San blinks, and he catches Hongjoong’s eyes. “We’ll look into it,” he promises. “This is… a good start, though. I think a lot of things are clearer now.”

“You know~” Jimin says in a sing-song tone, hanging off San’s shoulder as he sways a little from side to side, “we have time for a drink~”

Hongjoong laughs. “I have to be in the studio for the next two days so I can’t join you. Sannie?”

San pouts. “Just one? You can have, like, an apple juice or something.”

“What am I, five?” Hongjoong snorts, raising an eyebrow.

“Just one drink? Please? It’ll make up for that time you got me dancer’s heat packs instead of an actual present,” San says, bringing up an _ATEEZ Holdings_ episode.

Hongjoong goes scarlet, which makes Jimin and Jungkook erupt into laughter again. “Just _one_ ,” he insists, pointing a finger at San. “And only one selca and it has to be a group one. No more torturing Wooyoung.”

San flinches slightly and nods. “I know.”

Jungkook giggles into his hand and pulls out his phone, handing it to one of the Big Hit staff members. “Can you take the picture for us? We can put it on the official account.”

Hongjoong does the same with one of the KQ staff, the four of them getting into a good position that doesn’t give away which tattoo parlour they’re at. They take two different selcas: a serious one and a goofy one, both of which are posted to the official BTS and ATEEZ twitter accounts by Hongjoong and Jimin; Jungkook wanted to post it to the BTS Twitter account, but had forgotten the password as he rarely posted to it.

 **@BTS_TWT [10:00 p.m.]  
**Collab ?? Haha, just friends~  
#Jimin #JJK #BTSARMY @AteezOfficial #Hongjoong #SAN #ATINY  
[media]

 **@ATEEZOfficial [10:00 p.m.]**  
[#Hongjoong][#SAN] Fresh Ink collab with #Jimin & #JJK @BTS_TWT #ATINY #BTSARMY  
[media]

“We look so cute!” Jimin says, pleased, when he slips his phone back into his pocket.

“Can’t wait for the shit we’re going to get from Rapmon-hyung,” Jungkook agrees, laughing. “ _Why did you tell ARMY and ATINY that you’re collabing?!_ ” He mimics Namjoon’s fast paced English and iconic deep register with surprising accuracy. “ _They’re gonna go mental! What am I gonna tell Hitman Bang?!_ ”

Jimin snickers. “Like we can’t post an emergency thirst trap and distract them.”

San blinks and shares a look with Hongjoong. “Did you just say _emergency thirst trap_?” he asks, cautious but also with a smile tugging at his lips.

As they head out to the cars, face-masks on and jackets zipped up, Jimin nods. “Sometimes ARMY gets a bit too boisterous, you know? We love them but you gotta get them under control, so we have ways to distract them.”

“With thirst traps,” Hongjoong finishes, blinking slowly.

“With thirst traps,” Jungkook confirms.

Jimin sighs. “Though Jungkookie can get away with just posting a regular picture because of how little he posts to the accounts.” He flicks his hair back as he tugs on his toque. “The easy ride of being the golden youngest.” Jungkook snorts and shoves him. “We’ll send you the address, Joongie. The place I’m thinking of is nearby.”

“Sounds good,” Hongjoong agrees.

They really do stay out for only one drink, because the staff gets antsy and their security detail really enforces the one drink maximum. Hongjoong and San are dared to get supremely fruity and ‘girly’ drinks, something with a lot of fruit and umbrellas. They do it easily, not at all embarrassed by the bright colours or the ostentatious presentation.

Just before they’re about to pay the tab, San gently nudges Jungkook. “Our maknae, Jongho, he really looks up to you. Can you record a little note for him? It doesn’t have to be anything serious, but… he’s doing a lot more lately out of his comfort zone and I wanna do something nice for him.”

Jungkook blinks and gives his patented scrunched-nose-bunny-toothed smile. “Yeah, sure!” He tugs down his facemask a bit and records a quick, 30 second video on San’s phone to Jongho, wishing him luck and saying they should sing together sometime. “Haha, it was like I was doing a cameo!” He cackles and throws his head back. “$1000, Sannie!”

“I can offer you my undying love and affection,” San says, laughing when Jungkook punches him in the arm - thankfully not the one with his fresh tattoo.

After that they do need to go, and after bidding farewell to Jimin and Jungkook, Hongjoong and San went back to the dorm, thanking the security and staff for staying with them. “Leave the wrap on for 24 hours,” Hongjoong is saying as they enter the dorm, yawning as he locks the door behind them. “Follow the sheet they gave you exactly but the gist is don’t touch it even if it itches, keep it out of the sun and when you shower, just let the water, like, drip off it and pat dry. If it becomes infected, tell me or one of the staff, we’ll help you out. I have _Polysporin_ and clear, non-scented soap in my room … just go in there and grab it out of the toiletries bag on the dresser. I’ll leave it out for you.”

San nodded carefully, making sure he still had the instructions for the tattoo’s aftercare on him. “Thanks, hyung. -- for everything. One of us is going to come by and bring you lunch tomorrow and Monday, okay?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Hongjoong replies, reaching up and ruffling San’s hair despite the obvious discomfort it causes him from the stretch on his side.

“I have to worry about you a little,” San stresses, poking his cheek. “You and me have to stick together in our Lonely Hearts Marching Band Club.”

Hongjoong is silent for a long moment before realizing that San is trying to recite the name of a _Beatles_ song. “Right,” he says finally, smiling. “Off to bed, Sannie.” He blinks as San hugs him, being mindful of his tattoo. “H-Hey…”

San smiles against his neck. “We’ll get through this, okay? We just… need to remember that if Seonghwa-hyung and Wooyoung are happy, then we’re happy. We’ll make it if we remember that.”

The rapper’s eyes widen and his heart clenches, knowing that San’s right. “...You’re too good for this world, Sannie,” Hongjoong says, petting his hair, just the way he likes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [jks_microwave's twt](https://twitter.com/JKs_Microwave) // [jiminly's twt](https://twitter.com/lovelyturnabout)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not that Hongjoong might think Seonghwa likes Wooyoung more than him.
> 
> It’s that Hongjoong might think Seonghwa likes _only_ Wooyoung, and not him.
> 
> _Hongjoong-hyung is madly in love with Seonghwa-hyung and Seonghwa-hyung has no idea._
> 
> _Oh my god..._
> 
> _I fucked this up, oh my fucking god, I am dead. I am so fucking dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies, we're baack!
> 
> Dropping a casual 36k long chapter? We’re so sorry but also kind of not 🤠
> 
>  **Couple of content and trigger warnings for this one:**  
>  There's discussion of sexuality (with mention of homophobia), panic attacks, fainting, public drunkenness, vomit and an uncomfortable (not graphic) scene where a main character is hit on by a stranger. If you'd like to skip this, once you get to the word "cellar" (it will be underlined in the fic), please skip to the next ~*~. There are call backs to this moment twice in the following scenes but they are only mentioned, not explicit flashbacks.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your support on the last chapter and we hope you enjoy this next instalment (we take no responsibility for any potential frustrated throwing of phones across the room 😇)
> 
> ps: Sannie is best boy 💖

Wooyoung is miserable.

And angry.

And painfully confused.

He’s in his bed, covers pulled up over his head, staring daggers into his phone at the image that was just posted to Twitter from the actual @BTS_twt account. There was San, with Jimin-sunbaenim, Jungkook-sunbaenim and Hongjoong-hyung all looking cool as hell at the chic tattoo studio together. Wooyoung’s throat is suddenly painfully constricting at the unbearable FOMO of the happiness of the picture. The screen on his phone goes black from being inactive for so long and he throws his phone gently out of the covers, hearing it hit and roll along the carpet.

So, San and BTS were suddenly best friends.

That’s cool. That’s great.

Is this what it is going to be like from now on? Hongjoong flaunting his popularity and good connections as KQ’s golden boy to the rest of them?

At what point does it become 6 Makes 1 Team?

He doesn’t understand why it has to be this way. Seonghwa and Hongjoong love each other. San and him love each other. They’re all velcroed to the hip twenty-four seven anyway, what’s so fucking criminal with a little bit of sharing is caring?

Wooyoung doesn’t care that San slept with Hongjoong. Is he a little jealous? Sure, that’s normal, but he’s happy to see San exploring new things outside of himself and maybe he learned something new to take back to their relationship. Honestly, Wooyoung’s kind of curious about sleeping with Hongjoong himself! As long as everyone’s being safe and consensual, there’s no problem.

Right?

So why can’t San be happy for Wooyoung too? Having new, fun experiences with Seonghwa doesn’t change how he feels about San.

It doesn’t have to change anything.

If anything, it makes him love San _more._

So, why can’t they just _talk_ about it? Their communication up to this point has always been better than anyone else’s. Why stop now?

Wooyoung stares at his own hands. Maybe he would’ve already spoken to San about it had be not been so fucking afriad that San will make choose; give him an ultimatum - pick Seonghwa or himself. He blinks, suddenly second guessing himself. He’s not being greedy, is he? He genuinely loves and cares for San and he wants to love and care for Seonghwa too. It’s not just about sex. It’s love.

Can you love more than one person and make it work?

Wooyoung turns over to whine into his pillow, at a loss over the impossibility of his feelings. The door opens and in floats the whistling melody from _For A Few Dollars More._

“Well, howdy partner, I hear there be a runaway gloomy son of a gun that needs cheerin’ up.”

“ _Go away_ ,” Wooyoung mumbles, burying his head further into the pillow. “I’m being depressed.”

“Not if your here Yunho-hyung can help it.”

“You’re barely older than me.”

“Come on, Wooyoungie-ah, make some room for your hyung!”

“No!” Wooyoung sulks, gripping the duvet tightly, anticipating it being ripped off him, only for him to expel a quick rush of air when Yunho jumps onto the bed to straddle his back. He suddenly scrambles to pull the covers over his head for the needed fresh air. “I refuse to let you cheer me up.”

“If you're ridin' ahead of the herd, take a look back every now and then to make sure it's still there with ya,” Yunho says wisely with a low gruff voice.

“Huh?”

“The quickest way to double your money is to fold it over and put it back into your pocket.”

“The cowboy therapy isn’t helping,” Wooyoung mutters.

“Aw, come on, no one can resist The Energizer!” Yunho snuggles into him, hugging and shaking him.

“BOO HOO HOO!” Wooyoung yells as loud as he can, “WAH-DEE-WAH, I’M DEPRES- _oof!_ ” Yunho sits down on his back roughly, riding up and down like Wooyoung’s his faithful steed.

“I’m going to lasso your sads away, _kiai_!”

“Cowboys don’t say ‘ _kiai_ ’.”

“Alright then,” Yunho grunts to reposition Wooyoung face up, so Wooyoung makes himself as limp as possible, shooting him an unimpressed glare. It takes some extra work, but Yunho doesn’t give up, eventually getting him flopped onto his back. “I’ll just karate the sads away. NO MERCY! _KIAI_!” A flurry of punches appears in Wooyoung’s vision, never hitting him but close enough that it’s a sudden overwhelming visual, and, unable to contain it, he turns his head away with the slip of a giggle.

Wooyoung throws his hands over his mouth with a muffled, “No!”

“I heard it, I heard it!” Yunho cheers, continuing his barrage of fast punches, “Yah, yah, _hiyah!_ ”

Wooyoung suddenly bursts into uncontrollable giggles and Yunho’s face brightens with determination, ending the karate volley to tickle his sides instead. Wooyoung writhes, laughs and screams, at the complete mercy of The Energizer’s roving fingers.

“No, _n-no more_!” Wooyoung laughs delightedly, trying to push him away but the tickle attack doesn’t let up, Yunho clearly wanting to rid him of every last sad in his body. He tries to yell more to stop but it's completely swallowed by his stuttered laughing and gasps for breath.

And then, all he can think about is San.

The last time he touched San was at rehearsal, when they fought. The imprint of Wooyoung’s own emotions surface strongly. He had been filled with so much resentment in that moment, it makes him wonder how far he would have gone had the other members not broken them up? He feels his cortisol spiking, whipping up a hurricane of thoughts, swirling above an opening pit in his stomach, a gaping hole growing larger, larger. Suddenly, the laughs and cries that were indistinguishable from each other become distinct sobs as he goes weak, no longer reacting to Yunho’s tickles.

“Shit.” Yunho stops dead, then puts his hands on Wooyoung’s cheeks, “N-No, Wooyoungie, don’t cry...” He collapses into Wooyoung, wrapping his arms around his shaking shoulders. Wooyoung can’t get a word out, squeaking as he gasps in between long wails.

What...

What if he can’t fix this with San?

Him and San _always_ make up, but something feels different this time that he can’t place his finger on. It’s a thought he never considered before and it terrifies him, taking another shuddering breath to cry out in heartache.

“Please don’t cry, Wooyoungie, I’m so sorry, please don’t cry,” Yunho soothes, rocking him, and Wooyoung’s arms regain some strength to reach around him, hugging tightly.

It takes a while for Yunho to calm Wooyoung down, who finds himself sitting up in Yunho’s embrace, trying his best to sip down some water from a bottle through intermittent hiccups.

“I’m sure Hongjoong-hyung will let you meet Jimin-sunbaenim if you ask nicely,” Yunho soothes.

“Oh my god, this isn't about Jimin-sunbae!” Wooyoung grunts out.

Yunho’s chest rises heavy with breaths for a short silence. “What happened, Woo?” he presses softly.

Wooyoung doesn’t think, he just blurts out, “I slept with Seonghwa-hyung and then San slept with Hongjoong-hyung and now I think I’m in love with Seonghwa and San won’t talk to me and everything is awful and ruined!”

“Woah,” Yunho says after a pause, “What a twist. Okay. That's a lot to process... You love Seonghwa-hyung?”

“I think so? I don't know. I'm so confused.”

“Hey, Woo. Confusing feelings are normal, and comeback season always makes everything ten times worse. I'm sure things will work themselves out after promoting is over.”

_Yeah. Unlikely._

“I just don't understand,” Wooyoung says, crestfallen, “San's acting like he hates me, but I followed the rules. It doesn't feel fair.”

“Well, that might be true but hearts don’t play fair, do they?”

“He should have _said_ something.”

“Maybe he was scared.”

Wooyoung pouts for a second, then throws his hands over his face in exasperation. “Oh my god, Yunho, what if Seonghwa and Hongjoong break up because of me? _Everyone_ is going to hate me.”

“Are they even together? You know, officially?” Yunho chews his lip.

Wooyoung blinks. “I... assumed they were?”

“Mingi told me they're like committed friends with benefits.”

“Isn't that the definition of together?”

Yunho gives Wooyoung’s shoulders a comforting shake. “My advice: I wouldn’t worry about Seonghwa and Hongjoong. They’re big boys who will figure it out eventually. Besides, Hongjoong-hyung’s so smitten, he’s been trying to confess his undying love for years, he’s not just suddenly going to let that go because some little brat slept with Seonghwa-hyung..”

“Hey!” Wooyoung jerks his head around, “I thought you were trying to cheer me up?”

“Am I wrong, though?” Yunho says with a smug wink.

Wooyoung sighs back into him. “You don’t get it, Yunho. Seonghwa instigated it, like… he’s been coming onto me pretty hard. I’ve never seen him like this with Hongjoong, even when they think we aren’t looking.”

“Huh.”

“It's weird and I'm so horny and confused,” Wooyoung groans.

Yunho hums and taps his chin thoughtfully. “Okay, but you're still on a break with San, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, live a little! It will get worked out, why not enjoy this time with Seonghwa-hyung before it's over? Oh, but don't tell San I said that.”

But that is just it. Wooyoung _doesn’t_ want his time with Seonghwa to be over. His heart clenches painfully like an empty stomach would, with its insatiable need to love and be loved. The idea of having nothing at all - not San, not Seonghwa - triggers his anxiety and he feels the swelling wave of tears all over again.

“… That's terrible advice Yunho,” Wooyoung despairs.

“Hey, I'm called The Energizer, not The Life Coach,” Yunho presses a small kiss to Wooyoung’s temple. “Wait wait, I memorised one more cowboy advice, you wanna hear it?”

Wooyoung sighs. “Fine.”

“Some cowboys have too much tumbleweed in their blood to settle down,” Yunho puffs up his chest proudly, putting on the accent again and posing a hand-gun.

Wooyoung’s eyes widen, brows creasing in deep thought and, for better or worse, the gears start turning.

~ * ~

San rises early on the morning of their day off, and finds Jongho is sitting quietly on one of the couches, reading a book and looking downright cozy in a giant hoodie and sweatpants. He has a pillow over his stomach, resting the book over it, long red hair pushed back by a hairband. San smiles at the sight; their maknae sure likes to act like an old man forty times his age, but that’s what makes Jongho… _Jongho_. San pulls out his phone and makes his way over, and leans over the back of the couch.

“Hey beautiful, been here before?”

True to his expectation, Jongho rolls his eyes and looks up from his book, barefaced and puffy-cheeked. “I live here,” he replies, deadpan. There’s a tiny bit of a smile on his lips, though, and San’s own eyes crinkle as a smile creases his own. “What’s up, hyung?”

San hops over the back of the couch and flops down beside Jongho, and holds up his phone. “I will now accept my title of your best hyung and you have to promise not to just… _pick me up_ out of nowhere unless I request it.”

The lead vocalist blinks and San can see the gears turning, clearly wondering whether or not he should take San seriously. In the end, Jongho is a sweetheart and nods. “Okay.”

Fighting the urge to coo at their youngest, San snuggles closer and unlocks his phone, pulling up the video memo that Jungkook recorded the night they’d gotten their tattoos. “You’ve been working really hard, Jongie and you’re coming out of your shell more and more. So, I wanted to get you something!” He presses play on the video clip.

_Jungkook is sitting beside San at a bar, black face mask pulled down and tucked under his chin, blond hair peeking out from underneath his black toque. His eyes are bright in the dim light of the bar, and there’s a bit of jostling as he takes the phone from San._

_“Choi Jongho!” he calls, laughing as his nose and eyes crinkle. “This is BTS’ Jungkook! Haha, sorry, sorry. I’m too used to doing that nowadays. Sannie’s been telling me a lot about you. It’s tough being the main vocal and the youngest, right? Let your hyungs take care of you, yeah? That’s what they’re there for. And … between you and me, it’s nice to be babied once in a while. We gotta anchor the songs, and we get the most lines… everybody is always hard on our stability, on the range, and it can be really easy to get inside your head. But there’s a reason why you’re main vocal and it’s because you’re the best! Don’t let up and keep fighting! Your vocals are really impressive!! I wanna sing ANSWER with you one day, so don’t give up. Mwah!”_

The clip ends there after he hands the phone back to San who throws up a peace sign just as Jimin crowds in and sends a bunch of kisses through the screen. Jongho stares in shock, replaying the message two more times before suddenly throwing his arms around San and hugging him tightly.

San is surprised and quickly shoves his phone into his pocket before hugging Jongho back as tightly and as warmly as he can. Their youngest always suffers quietly, not as boisterous or loud as the others, acting like he’s 90 instead of 20, but growing up as an idol is tough, even more so with the pressure that he has as main vocal with his impressive range. “You’re doing really good,” San promises, stroking his red hair back. “Lean on your hyungs sometimes, just like Jungkook-sunbae says. He’s the expert in being babied by his hyungs.”

Jongho mumbles something against San’s shirt and San has to lean in to hear, “thank you, hyung.”

“You’re welcome, Jongie!” San coos, swaying back and forth while hugging the youngest. “I’ll send the clip to you in our personal chat so you can save it.” He shifts and grabs his phone, managing to do so one-handed. “Done!”

To his surprise, Jongho doesn’t move and instead stays pressed to his side. “…something bad happened between you and Wooyoung-hyung, didn’t it?” His eyes are downcast, and his voice is soft. There’s nothing Jongho likes less than talking about feelings, so San’s doubly surprised. “He’s always with Seonghwa-hyung now…”

San is silent for a long moment, absently running his fingers through Jongho’s growing hair, tugging off the hairband so it’s easier for him to do so. “Wooyoung… I’m pretty sure he’s in love with Seonghwa-hyung,” he says softly, the words difficult to voice aloud. “I don’t think he knows it yet.”

Suddenly, Jongho sits up and looks at San with wide eyes. “But… what about you—”

A sad smile creases San’s lips, and he shakes his head. “I know he’ll always love me but I don’t know if he’s… in love with me anymore,” San admits. “Sometimes, that’s how it goes: someone you love loves someone else and… all you can do is support them. Because you love them.” It’s strangely easier now, saying it again, that Wooyoung is in love with Seonghwa. “So that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“Because you love him,” Jongho repeats slowly.

“Because I love him,” San confirms, nodding.

Jongho looks thoughtful and squeezes San a bit tighter, being mindful of his superior strength. “Then… is that what Hongjoong-hyung is doing too?”

Surprised, San looks down at their maknae, and smiles fondly; Jongho is extremely perceptive, and staying in the back watching everyone, has likely noticed a lot more than they realize. “…yeah,” San confirms quietly. “You know how long he’s been trying to confess to hyung.”

“…and now hyung’s with Wooyoung-hyung,” Jongho mumbles softly, his brows knitting together as he tries to parse the complexity of the situation. “...you know, after you and Wooyoung-hyung fought, I asked Seonghwa-hyung if he’d ever been in love before.”

San blinks. “Why did you ask him that?”

Jongho shifts and leans back a bit, to get more comfortable and not talk into San’s t-shirt. “Hyung said the reason you and Wooyoung-hyung were fighting was because you guys were in love and not on the same page so the tensions just build until…” He mimics an explosion with his fingers. “It sounded like he was talking about something specific, so I asked if he’d ever been in love before.”

“...and what did he say?”

“He didn’t answer.” Jongho shifted, looking thoughtful about the memory. “I remember seeing him look at Hongjoong-hyung when I mentioned it, though.”

San blinks again and groans softly, putting his hands on his face - wincing when his healing tattoo stretches at the movement. “Oh my god they’re in love with each other,” he says in disbelief. “What a mess…” Another loud groan escapes him and he presses his head back against the back of the couch. “Ugghhh and it’s all my fault.”

Jongho glances at him. “If you want a break… you can come work out with me, hyung. It helps as a distraction and you can actually hit things.”

San’s eyes widen at the invitation and he smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of Jongho’s head, laughing at the disgruntled sound that comes from their maknae. “Thank you, Jongie. I think I might take you up on that. But we gotta keep an eye on Joongie-hyung; he’s burning the candle at both ends more than usual and it’s gonna get bad before it gets better. Seonghwa-hyung’s stressed out too, so we gotta pick up the slack.”

“Yeah,” Jongho agrees. “We can’t leave everything on their shoulders.”

“Right.” San hugs Jongho and releases him. “Now, as a second gift, I’ll leave you in peace.”

Jongho sighs and leans back, pretending to be blissed out. “You’re definitely the best hyung.”

“And I know it!”

~*~

Wooyoung has been staring at the bottom of Yeosang’s bunk for hours, chewing gum loudly and plotting. Above him, the bed rustles as wakes from his second nap of the day, Yeosang’s head appearing over the bunk to glare at Wooyoung and rolling his eyes.

“Your sulking disturbed my sleep.”

“I’m not sulking, I’m using my big brain to think, you probably can’t relate.”

Yeosang raises an eyebrow, then swings his legs off the bed and stretches. “You should eat something or else your pecs will disappear,” he says after he’s climbed down, crossed the room and is halfway through the door.

“You should and maybe you’d grow an inch!” Wooyoung shouts after him.

Yeosang’s head pops back in the doorframe, giving Wooyoung a snobbish once over. “Though I applaud you for actually using this time to take a break. You’re not used to it.” And he’s gone.

Wooyoung scrunches up his face and flops back onto his bed, shutting his eyes with an agitated sigh. Right. He can’t lie here and plot forever, he needs to take action. With a determined vigor, Wooyoung rolls himself up to a sit with an expressive sound, then pushes himself off the bed, quickly rids himself of clothing and opens his wardrobe with a sure sense of purpose. Butt naked, he peruses, picking out the perfect outfit between sexy and comfy with a loose striped sweater so oversized it falls over his shoulder and halfway down his chest. After spraying deodorant and a dab of cologne, he pulls up the hem of the sweater to inspect himself this way and that, then decides to shuffle the waistband of his Adidas track pants down an inch.

“Showing your pube hair is not going to help us get more Inkigayo votes for the comeback!” Yeosang holds a hand over his eyes, having returned to fetch a book from his dresser. Wooyoung aims a blind kick but Yeosang runs back out with a giggle trailing behind him.

“As it if wouldn’t,” Wooyoung grumbles to himself, pulling the sweater back down over his pants, then looks at himself in the mirror one last to square his shoulders and walk out of the room towards Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s room. As he reaches the door, he pauses to swallow nervously. Nothing monumental, he’s just going to ask out the most househusband of all homebodies ever on a date one week before comeback. If he refuses, Wooyoung’s going to look like such an ass…

Shaking the doubt out of his head, Wooyoung gives a resolute exhale through his nose and raps sharply on the door.

“Come in, I’m decent.”

Wooyoung peers inside, a little hesitant. Hongjoong’s not there, as expected, and Seonghwa is propped up on a few pillows, watching something horizontally on his phone.

“Snuggle buddy delivery,” Wooyoung grins with a touch of aegyo.

Seonghwa looks over and his face brightens, making Wooyoung’s heart skip a beat. “Well come on in, my good chum,” he says, shifting over and patting the mattress next to him. Wooyoung enters and makes sure the door is closed behind him.

"What are you watching?" Wooyoung asks as he sneakily checks that the top of his left nipple is still peeking out of his sweater arrangement.

"Sunmi's new MV teaser," Seonghwa says, watching his phone intently.

"Ooh I want to watch!" Wooyoung climbs onto the bed and curls up to Seonghwa to see the video. "Hmm, what’s this? A horror concept? Unstable relationship? Woah, she looks so sexy here! She hasn't done anything like this since Full Moon."

Seonghwa replays the video for them to watch again, nodding along to the mysterious music. "I like the beat. She's such a good songwriter; always being innovative. I loved Lalalay."

"I liked Noir, oh and Siren,” Wooyoung says and Seonghwa gives a knowing nod. They snuggle in, watching a few more Sunmi videos before a Wooyoung fancam pops up in Seonghwa’s recommends, the small red bar indicating it had been viewed previously. Wooyoung flushes darkly as Seonghwa let’s it autoplay. “Ah, don’t embarrass me, hyung.”

Seonghwa smirks handsomely, turning his head to give Wooyoung a kiss on the cheek, then settles in so their heads are touching as they watch. “But this one’s my favourite. Your arms look good.”

Wooyoung can’t help but cringe at himself. “I need to work on my facials this comeback, my mouth is always hanging open during performances.”

“I like it,” Seonghwa keeps smiling warmly at the video.

“God I was exhausted; I really overdid it with INCEPTION’s promotion.” Wooyoung’s critical concentration on the screen is broken when Seonghwa’s finger curls under his chin, bringing their eyes together. Wooyoung’s breath catches in his throat as he’s guided into a slow, loving kiss. Seonghwa’s hand curls over his shoulder and he makes a surprised, half-strangled sound when his exposed nipple is flicked.

“That’s for overdoing yourself, naughty baby,” Seonghwa breathes against his mouth, hot and heavy. Wooyoung feels the press of arousal at that, swallowing thickly. His lips twitch, staring at Seonghwa’s mouth hungrily but he pulls away, needing to get what he needs to say out before he gets too distracted.

“Wait.”

Seonghwa blinks with confusion and hurt at the sudden rejection. “Ah. I-I’m sorry, Wooyoung. I should have-”

Wooyoung interrupts him in a panic. “No! No, it’s not that, I just came in here for a reason.” When Seonghwa just looks at him with large eyes, Wooyoung stumbles on, “How are you?”

Seonghwa purses his lips slightly. “Oh. I’m fine, Wooyoungie, thank you for asking.”

“Is Hongjoong-hyung doing okay?”

Seonghwa seems taken aback by the question, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes. “I’ve messaged the group chat a couple of times but no reply.”

“You’re not talking privately?”

“He hasn’t responded to my last text in ages, so I feel awkward. He’s going to be with the company all night tonight so…” Seonghwa pauses, then his eyes find Wooyoung again, warming to stroke his hair gently. “Oh, Woo, he’ll be fine.” He nuzzles into Wooyoung’s neck, giving him a sweet kiss. “Hey, why don’t you sleep in here tonight?”

“Do you want to go out to dinner with me?” Wooyoung blurts out, blood pumping, head buzzing, mind fuzzy. _Ah shit_ , he jumped like three pages of the script!

Seonghwa stills, eyes wide, staring at Wooyoung in the way he does when he asks him something forward. Weirdly, he breaks out into a smile, then a couple of chuckles, and then full blown laughter, clutching at his stomach and rolling back and forth.

Wooyoung blinks, then laughs along a little too because he feels like he has to, but he’s really not sure what’s funny about going to dinner.

“Yes!” Seonghwa bellows, something new in his eyes, a passion that’s darker than usual and he regards Wooyoung fully with admiration. “Yes, Wooyoung! I would love to go to dinner with you. Let’s not just stop there; let’s go _dancing_.”

Surprised, Wooyoung’s face lights up more and more. “Yeah! Fuck yeah!”

“Let’s get crazy, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa says, moving to straddle over Wooyoung. “Young forever. One night off to really relax before comeback. Let’s get totally irresponsible.”

“I-I’m already pretty irresponsible,” Wooyoung admits, blushing at Seonghwa’s closeness and chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“My gorgeous baby,” Seonghwa says as he grins down at him toothily, eyes searching Wooyoung as if trying to commit this moment to memory. “Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

Wooyoung shakes no, heart galloping away. “I-I had a whole speech prepared because I thought you were going to say no.”

“You make me want to say yes,” Seonghwa whispers deeply, half-shaking his head with a sense of hopelessness and Wooyoung’s mouth parts, trying to cough up some kind of response but that might have just made his brain short-circuit. Seonghwa beams again, pressing down into him, long fingers wandering around the pleasure point on his neck, causing him to tremble with desire. “Oh, Youngie… just look at you.”

“Ah, _Hwa..”_ Wooyoung’s voice trembles, reaching around him, needing more touch. Seonghwa obliges with a pretty chuckle, hand roving up his sweater, resting a palm over his belly to stroke firm circles. Wooyoung melts into the warm movement, feeling a sense of care; being looked after.

“You look hot in this,” Seonghwa mumbles roughly against his mouth and Wooyoung licks up into him greedily. “Did you wear it just for me, baby? I can smell your cologne.”

“Yes, D-”

The word dies in Wooyoung’s mouth immediately, freezing. Seonghwa pulls back a little, eyes and mouth twisted with scandalised curiosity. “Did… Did you-?”

“No!”

“You did!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wooyoung snaps his gaze straight forward, closing his mouth into a thin line.

“You were going to call me Daddy.”

Wooyoung flushes with humiliation, blinking hard. “N-No, I was going to say… _Deong_ hwa.”

Seonghwa grins evilly at that, rolling a hard erection up the inside of Wooyoung’s thigh that makes him gasp loudly. He licks a stripe up his ear, husking, “I’ll be your Daddy if you want, baby.”

Wooyoung fails to suppress a pained whimper as his full cock twitches hard against the fabric of his track pants.

*

Feeling fresh from a shower, Wooyoung returns to Seonghwa’s room to find the older man laying out some outfit options on his bed and a sense of hope rises in his chest. “They said yes?”

Seonghwa spins around with the most breathtaking pleased smile. “What did I say? Leave it to your Daddy Seonghwa.”

Wooyoung buries his head in his hands with regret. “I can’t believe I let that slip out.”

Seonghwa faces forward and puts his hands on his hips to think over his clothes choices as one might regard a freshly mowed lawn. “I can’t wait to see what else comes out of you when I fuck you proper.”

Wooyoung pretends to cough loudly, closing the door. He wasn’t sure what he had awoken in Seonghwa but he was as equally terrified as he was turned on. “H-Hyung, be careful!”

“Well look who’s talking,” Seonghwa smirks, giving Wooyoung a light flick on the forehead when he approaches the bed, “Let’s switch places. You can be the responsible one from now on.”

“Sure, if you want someone to end up face down in a ditch.”

Seonghwa lets out a freeing laugh, an ugly honking thing that is rather funny to hear coming out of _that_ face. “So, Manager Sunghyon has allowed us to go for dinner and dancing on the condition that I’m there to supervise and we have at least three people with us. They said they felt a bit guilty after letting Hongjoong and San get tattoos with BTS-sunbaenim.”

Wooyoung deflates a little, he had been hoping it would just be the two of them. Seonghwa seems to notice, bending down to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

“We’ll go out after promotion, okay?” Seonghwa brushes his cheek and Wooyoung nods with a pout. “But tonight we have to dress for stealth. _Suds Seoul_ has really low lighting so we should be safe there, and there’s a fried chicken place next door, management’s already approved it.”

“But our diets?”

“We can have a little fried chicken, and we’ll just have to substitute the beer for spirits and soda. I understand this may not be what you planned...”

Wooyoung decides to let go of the disappointment like a butterfly in a field. There would be more time for romantic dates, and he is just grateful he gets to spend his last off day with Seonghwa, not at the dorms, or studio, or a venue. His face brightens with anticipation, “I’d better go find a recruit then?” He turns and hurries into the the living room, finding Jongho making himself a bowl of lunchtime cereal and Yeosang on the couch reading ‘ _The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F**k_ ’. “Where’s San?” he asks.

“Dunno,” Yeosang murmurs, not looking up from his page.

“Yunho and Mingi?”

“They just left for the arcade in Itaewon.”

“Damn it,” Wooyoung tuts, “I wanted to ask if they wanted to go dancing with Seonghwa-hyung and me tonight.”

Jongho eyes Wooyoung curiously as Yeosang actually looks up from his book. “You and Seonghwa-hyung…?” Jongho asks.

Wooyoung shrugs off the weird tension in the room with a light scoff. “Yeah, so?”

“Where?”

“Itaewon. At _Suds Seoul_. We’re going to get fried chicken beforehand.”

“Is Manager Sunghyon okay with it?”

“Yeah, as long as we have at least three people and Seonghwa supervise. Manager said he owed us after Hongjoong-hyung and San got to get tattoos with BTS-sunbaenim,” Wooyoung _tries_ not to spit out the last part. “And it’s our last off-day before comeback.”

Jongho bites the inside of his mouth, worried, as Yeosang's phone pings a couple of times. “Wooyoung-hyung, maybe you should consider-”

“I’ll come.”

Wooyoung’s attention snaps to Yeosang, “You will?!”

Yeosang holds up his phone. “Yunho says he’ll come too since he’s already going to be in town. Mingi will be at his social limit and said he wanted to try and beat Hades tonight anyway.”

Wooyoung blinks. “I literally just told you about the plan five seconds ago. How did you-”

Yeosang shrugs with a couple clicks of his finger, pulling the book back up. “Keep up, Wooyoungie.”

*

 ***NEW GROUP: Yunho, Seonghwa, Yeosang, Wooyoung*  
** ***Yunho changed GROUP NAME to ‘REFUND SISTERS’*  
** ***Yunho changed Seonghwa’s name to Man Ok*  
** ***Yunho changed their name to Chun Ok***

 **Yeosang [12.46pm]  
** ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

 ***Yunho changed Yeosang’s name to Eunbi*  
** ***Yunho changed Wooyoung’s name to Silbi***

 **Man Ok [12.48pm]  
** Oh my god, I love it hahahahahaha

 **Silbi [12.48pm]  
** yessss, finally the maknae its what i deserve

 **Eunbi [12.49pm]  
** i agree  
these socks aren’t going to pick themselves up maknae-ssi

 **Man Ok [12.49pm]  
** 🤭🤭

 **Silbi [12.49pm]  
** HEY

 **Chun Ok [12.50pm]  
** for real, what time are meeting at the restaurant

 **Silbi [12.50pm]  
** man ok-unni :(((((

 **Man Ok [12.50pm]  
** My phone just started glitching ahhh  
@Jung.YunHo 7.30pm

 **Chun Ok [12.51pm]  
** perfect, see u then 😘😘  
better not be wet blanket on my dance moves :P

 **Man Ok [12.52pm]  
** I’m gonna be fun tonight, I promise :)

 **Silbi [12.52pm]  
** stop ignoring meeeeee

 **Eunbi [12.52pm]  
** why do i have this sudden feeling of dread

*

“I’m so sorry, we’ve only got two tables of two left,” says the seating attendant as their party of four shuffle into the waiting area of _Sam Sam Chicken._ “You’re welcome to wait, but it might be twenty minutes to half an hour?”

Yeosang clicks his tongue in disappointment, “Oh well, I guess we’ll-”

“We’ll split up!” Yunho yells out, frightening the seating attendant. The group all turn to stare at him with wide eyes. Wooyoung’s stomach flips clumsily, feeling a sweat on his neck. “Y-Yeah, Seonghwa-hyung and Wooyoung, you sit together and I’ll sit with my good pal Yeosangie.”

“Don’t touch me,” Yeosang says, pushing Yunho away as he goes in for a bro hug. “Whatever as long as it means I get chicken faster.”

 _Sam Sam Chicken_ is a chic, busy restaurant with groups of suited business friends rubbing shoulders with fashionable local hipsters. The interior takes its cues from the public baths: floor, seats and walls all part of a softly-curved, continuous layout of blue tiles that result in a slick, minimal and modern-retro space. Yunho and Yeosang are seated at a table upstairs while Seonghwa and Wooyoung are led down to the basement which has a similar interior design but the room is dark, only lit by hanging lamps above each table.

“I suppose we got our romantic dinner date after all,” Seonghwa pulls down his mask and smiles once he’s sat down. The music in the restaurant is loud enough that it’s quite difficult to hear conversations happening at other tables.

Wooyoung glances up to the attendant and gives a small thanks when she passes them their menus and orders vodka lime sodas for both of them. Out of the outfits, Seonghwa ultimately settled on an oversized bucket hat, white t-shirt, black jeans and a choker that’s half leather and half chain, split at a metal ring in the center of his neck. He shrugs off a pretty studded denim jacket and lets it hang over the back of his chair. “You look nice,” Wooyoung says shyly, cheeks warm. Because he does look nice. He looks fucking _hot._

Seonghwa looks up from his menu, eyebrow quirking with interest. “What’s got you so bashful, huh?”

“You said date,” Wooyoung smiles happily to himself, keeping his gaze at the options on the page. “Spicy boneless chicken? I don’t want to get too dirty and you’re wearing a white shirt.”

“Ah, but Wooyoungie-” Seonghwa unfolds his paper napkin and gives it a single shake before tucking it into his neckline. “No mess for me! But I do agree we should get boneless.”

Wooyoung flushes with a fond chuckle. “You’re so embarrassing.”

Their drinks arrive a few minutes later, they order and Seonghwa lets out a deep sigh after taking the first sip from his straw. “This was such a good idea, thank you Wooyoung.”

“How come you said yes?” Wooyoung nearly downs half his tumbler in the first drink, blinking at how clearly nervous he is. “I really was expecting you to say no.”

“I’m tired of always being the buzzkill, always having to turn everything fun down. We’re ESFJ’s, Woo, I get my energy from being around other people. My favourite place is home, sure, but I go stir crazy after a while if I don’t start having new, fresh experiences.”

“New, fresh experiences,” Wooyoung repeats, looking into his glass as he swirls it.

Seonghwa laughs lightly. “Give yourself a little more credit.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Always.”

Wooyoung squirms with a little blush. “That night, um, the way your body… reacted… were you just pent up or was it, um-” He trails off, fiddling with his hair nervously. “Ah. Why is this so hard to say?”

Seonghwa’s face has rearranged itself into a pained half-grin. “I can’t believe you’re asking me this in public.”

“Ugh, you’re right,” Wooyoung despairs, dropping his face into his hands. He’s messing this up _bad._ Why is he messing this up? It wasn’t like this at all with San, they were like two puzzle pieces that fit together effortlessly. Seonghwa and Wooyoung… they were definitely part of the same jigsaw, but maybe more like adjacent pieces rather than adjoining.

When he looks up Seonghwa is just looking so fond, then says, “For the record, it was all you Wooyoungie,” he leans in a little closer as Wooyoung sees the waiter with their second round of drinks walking towards their table. “- _my arousal._ ”

“Two vodka soda limes?”

Wooyoung chokes on his own spit, placing one hand over his heart and the other to give a thumbs up to the waiter before gesturing the drinks down to their table. Once the waiter is gone and Wooyoung can breathe again, he cries out, “Seonghwa-hyung, you’re killing me.”

“I’m having a jolly time,” Seonghwa can’t hide his joy, finishing the last of his first drink to start on the next. When he notices Wooyoung fidgeting, he falters. “You're not too worried about Sannie, Young-ah?”

Wooyoung’s breath hitches, not expecting the question. “Um… I’m really pissed off at him, but I also miss him. Obviously. The tattoo… hurt. Not because of Jimin-sunbaenim. Because when I got my tattoo, Sannie was supposed to get one with me too, and then he bitched out at the last second…”

“You wanted his first tattoo to be with you,” Seonghwa concludes in a kind voice.

Wooyoung nods, feeling a little petulant. “It wasn’t a big deal that he didn’t do it. I didn’t care. I just thought he’d… I wanted it to be our thing.” He shrugs with a pout, trying to act tough. “Whatever though, him and Hongjoong-hyung can have it, I don’t care.”

Seonghwa’s shoulders relax as he gazes at Wooyoung. “But it must feel like a betrayal. Your feelings matter in this too, Young-ah. You know if you need to talk to someone, let me know. The staff has qualified people you can talk to about things like this.”

Something horribly solid tugs on Wooyoung’s heart and he blinks hard, because Seonghwa’s right on the money, but he thought he was being an asshole for thinking that San betrayed him to get that tattoo. The corner of his lips twitch in thought, then he opens his mouth and the food arrives, interrupting them. He seals it shut, sitting back in the chair and giving the waiter a tight smile as they arrange the platter of boneless chicken and side dishes: pickled radish, cucumber and kimchi.

Wooyoung takes a pair of chopsticks and a napkin for himself out of the receptacle on the table, clicking the ends of the utensils together as he mulls over asking the question he really wants to ask.

“What is it, Young-ah?” Seonghwa tilts his head with compassionate eyes.

“Are you upset at Hongjoong-hyung? For… sleeping with Sannie?”

Seonghwa’s eyes widen a little, then he bites his lip in thought. He hums, picking at a piece of chicken and popping it in his mouth, chewing slowly.

“You don’t have to-”

“No, I want to,” Seonghwa says through his food before swallowing. “It’s just a complex situation and I want to make sure my words are right.”

“I thought you were going to be irresponsible tonight,” Wooyoung tests with a cheeky smile.

Seonghwa laughs delightly, poking at his bangs under the lip of his bucket hat. “Right you are, Wooyoungie. Alright, how did I feel… Hmm.”

Wooyoung’s brows furrow a little at that. Surely this isn’t a difficult question?

“I was upset that we fought, but I did raise my tone first, so that one was my fault, I’ll admit. Me sleeping with you…” Seonghwa tilts his head back and forth a couple of times. “... hard to know how that would’ve made Hongjoong feel, but he seemed supportive when I spoke to him the night after. I think he was just caught by surprise. Maybe he never saw our closeness as potentially more than just friendship, but I’ve always had a soft spot for you, Young-ah, you must know that.”

Wooyoung nods along lamely, shoving kimchi in his mouth. What the _hell_ is Seonghwa on about?

“So, how did I feel about it… Well, Hongjoong and Sannie make more sense the more I think about it, you know… they’re both so emotionally mature and honed into their feelings, so I suppose them getting together was par for the course. Especially if Sannie did catch us… in the act. That is a bit embarrassing and I’d be pretty shocked if Hongjoong were to make a first move, you know. He’s not really like that, but he is receptive! And we were all really strung up, I think, so we all got the outlet we needed. I suppose the miscommunications which happened thereafter was what went wrong... You know what’s so funny, when I was telling him about you and I, he said that he loved me, it was really sweet. Hongjoong is so caring -” Seonghwa pauses, absent-mindedly rubbing the sleeve of his jacket between his fingers. “- I think Sannie’s really lucky to be able to see that side of him too.” He suddenly breaks out into a weird laughter. “I’m sorry, Young-ah, I’m rambling.”

Wooyoung opens his mouth, then closes it and shakes his head because he’s completely at a loss. Eventually, he manages to ask, “What’s so surprising about Hongjoong saying I love you?”

“I could count on my hand how many times he’s said it to me,” Seonghwa says, seemingly completely unaffected by this fact. “So, he must have been really stressed out about the album and comeback for that faux pas to slip!”

“Okay…” Wooyoung has been chewing on the same piece of kimchi, the thing now completely ground into oblivion between his teeth. “So, you’re not upset Hongjoong-hyung slept with Sannie?”

Seonghwa thinks it over for a second, then shakes his head with a beautiful but simple smile.

Wooyoung’s brows knit, feeling like the stupidest person on earth for not deciphering _anything_ that Seonghwa just told him. So he changes the subject, “What’s your sexuality, anyway?”

Seonghwa blinks. “I’ve... not really thought about it before.”

With eight men living in the same dorm for years, it was only natural they shared their personal details with each other, whether willingly or accidentally. But Seonghwa had always been for Hongjoong. He was off-limits, and the conversation about sexuality had never come up with either of them, and Wooyoung always figured it was because it was a kind of low-brow 99-liner and maknae topic.

“Why not?” Wooyoung wonders, curiosity piqued.

“It’s not really that important, is it?”

Wooyoung makes a bit of a face. “It’s important to me.”

“Huh,” Seonghwa pauses to swallow a piece of chicken. “Well, what’s yours?”

Wooyoung glances around then cups his hands around his face and mouths, ‘ _bisexual_ ’. Seonghwa chuckles and sips at his vodka soda.

“Why is it so important to you?”

“Well,” Wooyoung starts, then stops, deep in thought. No one’s actually ever asked him that before. His chest clenches at Seonghwa asking something so caring, with deep interest for him. “Um... because it’s who I am. I’ve had to hide it a lot and if I’m forced to hide it to some degree, I at least don’t want to hide it to myself. I want to be able to share my true self with the people closest to me.” When he looks up for Seonghwa’s eyes, he finds an honest connection, and his stomach flutters.

“Have people said cruel things about you, Woo?”

Wooyoung swallows hard, sucking at the inside of his lip. “There was a rumour at school that I was bi, I overheard someone’s parent tell their kid not to play with me or even look at me because I was ‘dirty’. The kids didn’t care but the older generation... they’d say things like, ‘ _I’m not against homosexuals, but I have to stand up to things that go against the laws of nature_ ’. So, I didn’t want to use that word for myself. I know it’s just a generation gap thing and everything, so I tried not to take it too much to heart and after that, when people asked me... I just said, ‘ _I really like holes._ ’”

Seonghwa’s mouth pulls up at the joke, then lowers halfway in concern. “Are you ashamed of the word?”

“I don’t want to be, I just want to be careful because you never know who’s a bigot in disguise. I don’t want there to be a scandal about me. There’s a stigma that gay people are wired to be promiscuous and spread diseases... anyone can spread STDs, you know; I make sure protection is used every time. And just because I like sex, it doesn’t make me a cheater, I’ve always been really meticulous about rules… so, stereotypes like that can hurt.”

“Woo…”

Wooyoung pushes on bravely, swallowing. “I’m… trying to be more proud of it. ATINY has helped me be more proud. You know, a lot of them are from the LGBTQ community? I saw a picture of a girl at the Seoul Queer Culture Festival with one of our lightsticks, that made me really happy. And sometimes I read through their comments on Fancafe and Twitter; I see the way they fight back against prejudice and live freely as their true selves online… there are lesbian ATINYs who love our music and apprecite our performance even if they say the fan service side of it can be a little alienating… Queer ATINYs push me to work harder so they can be proud of me.”

“I’m proud of you too,” Seonghwa’s eyes take him in with so much admiration, reaching out to squeeze his hand for a moment. “You’ve helped me understand why it’s important to be proud. Makes me wonder what I am.”

Wooyoung brightens, happy to move on from a heavy topic. He shoves a piece of chicken in his mouth and leans forward with interest. “Okay, well let’s see, you like men?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Seonghwa’s mouth quirks into a smile.

Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “Hey, trust the process. What about women?” Once he’s said it, it occurs to him he’s never really heard Seonghwa talk about women in a non-platonic capacity before.

“I’m... not against it. I did have this huge crush on a girl in my Science class in school. We used to sit next to each other and pass notes about old K-dramas. Sometimes we’d go to the library and cram together, but I never could get up the bravery to ask her out and I had already got permission from my parents to start auditioning so…”

Wooyoung nods intently. “Is the gender part important to you when you like someone?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, did you like her because she was a girl?”

Seonghwa blinks. “I liked her because she was funny and had a cute smile. I guess I’ve always been more attracted to men, but… she was a girl and I liked her so, I guess, yes?”

“Okay, this is a bit binary, but bear with me: would you still like me if I was a girl?” Wooyoung asks.

Seonghwa pauses, looking up in thought. “A lady Wooyoung with her bright personality, squeaky laugh and sexy performance?” he blushes handsomely, “Of course I would.”

A pleased smile rises on Wooyoung’s lips, before he twists it down to continue focusing on the task at hand. “If you are attracted to more than one gender, then you’re most likely either bisexual or pansexual.” Though he’s already got a feeling on which one of them it is.

“What’s the difference?”

“They’re similar but they’re still two different orientations, and can overlap. Some pansexuals will say they are attracted to people regardless of gender, while I would say I’m attracted to two or more genders. But really, it’s about what label feels right and then your own definition of it is valid.”

“Regardless of gender you say?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re really educated on this topic, Wooyoung, I’m impressed.”

Wooyoung purses his lips cheekily, batting his hand in the air in mock bashfulness. “I was just a really confused teenager with access to a search engine.”

Seonghwa looks down to his hands as if holding the two options. “Pansexual,” he murmurs, and a small smile rises to his face. He squares his shoulders, bringing it back to a blank expression and starts again. “Bisexual... Pansexual,” and the smile returns.

Wooyoung’s melts with fondness watching Seonghwa figure out his sexuality in real time. On the corner of the table, Seonghwa gets a notification on his phone and Wooyoung can see that his lockscreen is a picture of _him,_ displayed proudly for the world to see. Breath catching in his throat, he can’t stop the sudden racing of his heart.

His love for Seonghwa… is it really reciprocated?

“I like pansexual,” Seonghwa concludes with a crinkling, beaming smile that is absolutely too divine for this mortal earth.

“Seems like you have your answer,” Wooyoung smiles warmly, eyes wandering over Seonghwa’s face and, god, what he wouldn’t give to clatter over the table and kiss him right now.

“What if I got it wrong?” Seonghwa suddenly worries.

Wooyoung shrugs, scooping several pieces of pickled radish into his mouth. “It’s no biggie,” he muffles, “Sexuality is a fluid thing and identity is very personal so whatever label you feel is most comfortable to you at the time is the right one, even if that’s no label at all.” He swallows. “Heck, I could be hetero by this time next year and it’d be valid.”

“One billion won says you aren’t,” Seonghwa says with a smirk.

“Bet...” Wooyoung holds his finger up to pause for dramatic effect, “- not accepted.”

They break into laughter and fall back into a comfortable conversation, discussing the comeback, the new album, sleep schedules… then Seonghwa excuses himself to go to the bathroom. Wooyoung absent-mindedly licks his lips as he watches Seonghwa’s ass in motion under those tight jeans. Wooyoung is starting to get full, so he puts his chopsticks down before he overeats, wiping his mouth with his napkin, then wetting his lips with a little chapstick.

Wooyoung can’t stop thinking about what Yunho said about Seonghwa and Hongjoong not being official, and now Seonghwa’s perplexing answers about Sannie and Hongjoong. Because Hongjoong was _definitely_ upset about Seonghwa and him, that much was obvious from _The Talk_ ™ at the studio. The man was practically turning into a husk during the duration of that conversation (how could anyone not, with the way Seonghwa talked about the situation like it was a fucking sex ed class). Yet, despite knowing Hongjoong better than anyone else, Seonghwa seemed genuinely oblivious about the other man’s feelings, and his own, for that matter.

He supposes that’s what Yunho meant by Hongjoong trying to confess to him for years. Wooyoung really never paid that much attention to Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s marital status, he always just assumed they were a thing. He had always been far too wrapped up in his own escapades with San, and perfecting the concert bathroom quickie.

Wooyoung suddenly feels a weird sense of guilt. If Seonghwa was that oblivious, and Hongjoong was in that much pain… then he can’t help but feel a lot of Seonghwa’s kindness to him is undeserved. Because Hongjoong was right; the way he acted that night during _The Talk_ ™ was super bratty, and unfair… he just didn’t expect Seonghwa to defend him against Hongjoong to the level he did, especially with their leader collapsing in on himself like a Transformers doll. Even still, Seonghwa has defended Wooyoung as Hongjoong and Sannie move further and further away from them.

There’s… no way Seonghwa likes Wooyoung more than Hongjoong. Right?

_Wait._

If they’re not an official thing, then… does Hongjoong think Wooyoung and Seonghwa are…???

_Oh god… this isn’t what I wanted at all._

“-ah, Young-ah?”

“Huh?” Wooyoung starts, staring up from his daze to see Seonghwa back in the chair across from him with a curious kindness.

“Are you alright? You looked like you were deep in thought,” Seonghwa says with care.

“Ah, really?” Wooyoung swallows nervously. The cortisol is rising again, making him feel sick with sweat.

_Why hasn’t he gone back to Hongjoong-hyung yet?_

_God, what… what am I doing?_

“Hyung, do you think you can love more than one person?” Wooyoung blurts out. His hands are curled into tight fists under the table, nails biting his palms.

Seonghwa abruptly chokes on his vodka soda and it almost comes spraying out of his mouth. He bends forward, covering his mouth with both hands to attempt to suppress a coughing fit. Wooyoung stares in shock, not expecting such a dramatic reaction.

“Hyung!” he reaches out, but his hand hesitates.

“I-I’m okay,” Seonghwa gives a thumbs up, eyes still watering as he downs the rest of the drink for hydration. After a small cough behind his hand, “Sorry, what was the question?”

Wooyoung picks at his ripped jeans under the table, at odds with himself. His heart pounds in his throat now. Then, he enunciates carefully, “Do you _love_ Hongjoong-hyung?”

_Please say yes. Please say yes..._

Seonghwa’s eyes widen, his lips half-pouting as his eyes wander for an answer. “Sure,” he offers in a non-committal tone.

_Wait. N-No..._

“The fuck you mean ‘ _sure_ ’?” Wooyoung snaps, frustrated (and a bit panicked) at the question not being understood correctly. “No, like, are you _in love_ with him?”

“Um-” Seonghwa goes quiet. He looks down to what’s left of their shared platter, eyes widening, almost in fear. Hesitantly, he opens his mouth to say, “I-I don’t know.”

_Huh???_

_Wha-_

_How…_

_WHAT._

Wooyoung’s brows furrow deeper than they have all evening. Anger is dropped into his cortisol cocktail, a bitter, strange feeling bubbling up his throat like heartburn. “Seriously, hyung?” he retorts, unable to suppress how pissed off he is.

“Well, are you _in love_ with San?” Seonghwa reflexively cuts back, as if it’s a checkmate, and Wooyoung doesn’t hesitate.

“Of course I am.”

Seonghwa blinks, a strange look overcoming his features. Wooyoung just stares, top lip curling up in slight disgust. _What the hell is going on?!_ Seonghwa and Hongjoong are in love with each other. That’s the truth, no, it’s the _constant_ that keeps the fabric of their group together. How the fuck can Seonghwa not know?!

“But you two are like…?”

“What?”

“ _Together_ … right?”

Seonghwa’s expression tightens, then, “In what way?”

Wooyoung chokes through a scoff. “Seonghwa-hyung!”

“What, Wooyoung?!” Seonghwa’s lip makes a shape, clearly hurt.

Wooyoung’s mouth falls open, half-shaking his head in confusion. “Wait, wait, wait. You and Hongjoong-hyung really aren’t a couple? Not even secretly?”

Seonghwa starts a little, face flushing deeply and he looks painfully embarrassed. “N-No!” he says, hands sliding to hug the opposite arms. “What made you think that?” Then his shoulders scrunch up defensively. “What’s gotten into you…?”

_Fuck._

_Yunho was right._

“So, that night… you weren’t cheating?”

Seonghwa gapes at Wooyoung, completely scandalised. “You... thought I was cheating on Hongjoong?! No! Oh my god… We’re just close and -” he visibly swallows, “- help each other out.”

“You help each other out,” Wooyoung echoes, slowly blinking. “But you make chocolates together for Valentines Day every year. Hongjoong always gets you the best, most thoughtful Christmas presents. He _literally_ gave me _coal_ the other year!”

“We don’t celebrate those kinds of holidays like that,” Seonghwa says awkwardly. “Like Valentines is just an excuse for me to practice my chocolate tempering and Hongjoong likes to help decorate. And, of course I love Joong; just like I love all the members. It’s just… not that. We’ve never discussed _that_.”

“You’re absolutely sure you’re not in love with him?” Wooyoung won’t let up the point.

Seonghwa looks really humiliated now. “H-How do you know if you’re in love?”

“Wh-” The reflexive response dies in Wooyoung’s mouth when his brain finishes processing the question. “You… Uh, you just do?”

“You said you’re in love with San... when you realised, how did it feel?” Seonghwa’s eyes are practically pleading.

“U-Um…” Wooyoung shifts uncomfortably, trying to cast his mind back. “Well, I had a massive crush on him obviously. But one night, before we debuted, Jongho was having a laughing fit... it was so funny and contagious, anytime we’d all stop, someone else would start up and the rest of us would be howling again. Tears in our eyes and our stomachs hurt so much… like we couldn’t breathe… I was lying on the floor and San was straddling over me; I was being a brat, trying to rile him up and he had to sit on me, pinning my hands to the floor, our hands were clasped… and I just... looked up to him as he started laughing again and his eyes disappeared into these little crescents and his mouth was so open and happy… he was so beautiful and wonderful in that moment and I just… I _knew_. I felt it; that man would be my everything for the rest of my life… like I would never be able to live without him. _Where no one else found it, my treasure._ That was my line in _Treasure_ and I realised that when I sang it, I sang it for San. When I dance, I dance for San, like he’s the only one in the audience-” Wooyoung trails off with a blush, realising that it wasn’t just San who was in that audience anymore, was it? He swallows, continuing, “It was like a… a _freight train_ hit me. I felt this… pull in my soul… th-that’s how I’d describe it.”

Seonghwa is listening carefully, nodding along gently with a small smile. “That’s wonderful, Wooyoung,” he says, but his voice is blank and something about his expression is distant, like it’s been switched to autopilot. “That’s a wonderful story.”

“Do you not listen to the lyrics of our songs, the ones Hongjoong-hyung writes?” Wooyoung asks in desperation. “They’re about being in love.”

“A-Ah, I-” Seonghwa looks fearful and a lot more vulnerable than he did a few moments ago.

Wooyoung clears his throat a little. “ _Shaking waves make our hearts spill over, I become fascinated by you_ ,” he sings gently, voice a little stuffy after their fatty meal. “ _As a star, you shine onto me and become a big source of light for me. My sky becomes even more enchanting as that color starts to glisten…_ ”

Seonghwa listens, rolling his lips against each other. “Of course I listen to them, we have to perform them. I don’t-”

“Protect me, my Aurora?” Wooyoung asks it like a question, not bothering to sing it.

Seonghwa just shakes his head, dumbfounded at what Wooyoung is trying to get at.

Frustrated, Wooyoung holds his hands up, fingers splayed out and practically yells, “ _You’re_ the Aurora, Park Seonghwa! He’s been writing about _you_!”

The atmosphere shifts. Seonghwa, who is usually so sharp and composed, seems completely distracted, face visibly cycling through conflicting emotions in short bursts. A terrifying realisation hits Wooyoung.

_He doesn’t know yet._

_He really doesn’t know._

That’s why Hongjoong had never pushed him. He’s been letting Seonghwa work through his own emotions at his own pace, and Wooyoung’s big dick and even bigger mouth had come along and made a giant fucking mess.

Panicked, Wooyoung frowns and reaches out to hold Seonghwa’s hand across the table, trying to offer support but even he is unable to stop the trembles that have overcome his entire body. Seonghwa seems to belatedly realise the contact, then looks up with a habitual smile, a sudden gaping emptiness behind his black eyes that Wooyoung has _never_ seen before.

Something he can only describe as... broken.

“S-Seonghwa? Hey, Seonghwa-hyung?” Wooyoung prompts gently, chest rising in heavy breaths.

“Hey, are we going or what?”

Wooyoung nearly has a heart attack, jerking his head up to see Yunho and Yeosang standing at the perimeter of their table looking down at the two of them expectantly. “Huh?”

“We’ve been here for like, an hour, and we need Seonghwa-hyung’s card to pay,” Yeosang says.

“Yeah, come on, lovebirds, the dance floor is calling to me!” Yunho poses dramatically.

Seonghwa chuckles dryly, then takes his hand back and Wooyoung chases the contact for an inch before stealing it back. “Don’t worry, kiddies, Daddy Seonghwa to the rescue,” he says, pulling out the credit card from his jacket pocket.

“ _Daddy_ Seonghwa?” Yunho shoots a wry look to Wooyoung.

“Mommy, Daddy, Uncle, I really don’t care as long as I get free chicken,” Yeosang shrugs, making his way back towards the stairs.

Yunho cheers as soon as Seonghwa’s up and putting his jacket back on. “Leggo, leggo!” he says, excited like a labrador, pulling Wooyoung up out of his seat and pushing him up the stairs behind Yeosang.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ is all that runs through Wooyoung’s mind, face stuck in a vacant expression, as he watches Seonghwa pay at the front.

It’s not that Hongjoong might think Seonghwa likes Wooyoung more than him.

It’s that Hongjoong might think Seonghwa likes _only_ Wooyoung, and not him.

_Hongjoong-hyung is madly in love with Seonghwa-hyung and Seonghwa-hyung has no idea._

_Oh my god..._

_I fucked this up, oh my fucking god, I am dead. I am so fucking dead._

~*~

There is something wrong with Park Seonghwa.

Seonghwa grips Wooyoung’s hand tightly as they enter _Suds Seoul_ , dragging them straight to an empty break at the bar. It was agreed they would have to be back from their outing at midnight, so it was early as far as clubs go. Still, there was a decent amount of people already there without the space being packed in like sardines. Seonghwa looks down to Wooyoung with a wild smile, “Shots?”

“Y-Yeah?” he hears Wooyoung say but Seonghwa’s already leaning across the bar and catches a male bartender’s attention with a well-timed, sultry leer.

There is something wrong with Park Seonghwa.

“Five shots of vanilla vodka,” he orders, flashing his credit card. The bartender gives him a wink, then lines up five glasses to tip clear liquid across.

“There’s vanilla flavoured vodka?!” Wooyoung’s brow creases with concern.

“Helps with the burn,” Seonghwa gestures to his throat, then hovers his card above a pay square on the bar.

Enjoying the receptive nature of the bartender, who’s quite conventionally attractive, Seonghwa shoots him a seductive look and the man leans over the bar to murmur, “Next round’s on the house, doll.”

“But there’s four of us?” Wooyoung pipes up.

“Two for me,” Seonghwa explains with a crazed grin.

There is something wrong with Park Seonghwa.

“There you are!” Yunho says, walking up to them pumping his fists, then notices the row of alcoholic delights on the bar. “Yeah!! Thanks Daddy Hwa! Shots, shots, shotshotshots!”

Seonghwa passes them around with a pleased smirk, pinching his mask to bunch around his nose. They count down from three, and he tips the liquid down his throat. He welcomes the bitter fire, feeling an immediate reactive electricity sizzle over his alert skin. _Suds Seoul_ is on the upper end as far as dive bars go. The drinks are cheap, the tunes are hot and it’s the place to get rowdy on any night of the week. It’s like someone’s grandma’s house, if their grandma’s a bit of a fabulous alcoholic. Three floors of barely lit bars with orange tassel-covered lampshades, blue painted brick, a leather-wrapped bar, disco balls and velour, cabaret curtains. As the music pulses around him and barely giving a chance for the first drink to settle, Seonghwa pounds back the second. The flippant irresponsibility of it sets him free.

“I have the weirdest boner right now,” Wooyoung says blankly, who’s been staring at Seonghwa with some mixture of admiration and fear. He turns to Yeosang, who’s glass is still full.

“I’m not drinking tonight,” Yeosang shrugs.

“Three for me!” Seonghwa cheers, taking the shot back to neck it. “WOOOO!”

There is something wrong with Park Seonghwa.

“WOO!!!” Yunho joins in, throwing his hands in the air. “Come on Refund Sisters, I wanna see your sexy performance!”

Seonghwa fixes his mask, then throws his arms around his three pals, manoeuvring towards the middle of the dancefloor just as the music fades from some nondescript EDM track to _Love Talk_ by _WayV_. A cheer from a hundred bodies goes up and the movement of the crowd becomes slower and sultry. They find their spot and Yeosang’s already broken out the moves.

“Get it, Ten!” Yunho laughs delightedly, joining in with a modified version of Hendery’s choreography.

Seonghwa lets the throb of the beat travel through him, allowing his hips to lead him into the music. As the bridge approaches, Seonghwa weaves his hand around Wooyoung’s neck, rolling into him as he tilts his head back with pleasure. Wooyoung’s hands find his waist, holding tightly, a little shakily. Seonghwa smiles at that, tilting his body weight forward to bury his head in Wooyoung’s shoulder. He traces his poked tongue through the material of his mask up Wooyoung’s exposed collarbone and looks up with a starved glare. It’s worth it to see Wooyoung's eyes, impossibly wide, as he attempts to stutter out some incoherent reply. Seonghwa dances forward to bring his lips right up to his ear.

“I’d fuck you right now on this dancefloor if I could.”

Wooyoung goes as red as the flower on his lock screen, and Seonghwa throws his head back to laugh delightedly. God, when was the last time he let himself go like this? His body warms blissfully as the shots begin to seep into his veins, making him feel somewhat lighter and heavier at the same time. Wonderfully buzzed, he loses himself in the pump of the dancefloor.

_**You’re** the Aurora, Park Seonghwa! He’s been writing about **you**!_

Seonghwa stumbles back from Wooyoung a step, still rolling his hips to try and hide the sudden reaction from that invasive thought. He’s not going to think about that conversation right now. He’s not going to think about it. He’s not -

So, Seonghwa _isn’t_ in love Hongjoong.

It’s fine. This is fine.

It’s not like they share a room together. It’s not like everyone calls them _Mom and Dad_. It’s not like everyone acts like they’re fucking married.

Oh wait, that’s _exactly_ what it’s like.

Wooyoung said it clear as day. There’s a realisation. An ‘aha’ moment that hits like a freight train. He had a crush, and then he had a _moment_.

Seonghwa has had more of one of these mysterious ‘ _moments_ ’ with Wooyoung than he has ever had with Hongjoong.

Life with Hongjoong was just… easy. They’re best friends. They’re compatible. They have a routine. They rarely argue. They know each other so well that they look out for each other without having to be prompted, like Seonghwa getting Hongjoong’s coffee in the morning, or Hongjoong always picking up a croissant from Seonghwa’s favourite bakery if he has to go across town with the company. They kiss when they need comfort. They have sex when they’re horny. They don’t judge each other. It’s an unconditional friendship. Hongjoong is his home.

Did Seonghwa have a crush on him in the early days? Yes.

Was there an ‘aha!’ moment? No.

Somehow they got from A to C with no B. But Seonghwa doesn’t want that, he wants the B! He wants to be _in love_ with Hongjoong but he doesn’t think he can love Hongjoong any more than he does right now if he tried.

There was no freight train.

There is something wrong with Park Seonghwa.

“Hyung?”

Seonghwa blinks back, the sudden thump of music increasing quickly as he pays attention to where he is. He looks down to Wooyoung, who’s looking beautiful and sexy and Seonghwa’s body flushes with desire, heart picking up in his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, baby,” Seonghwa hugs him tightly, swaying along with the beat. He really feels it. How much he loves the small man in his arms. How much he wants to keep exploring these uncharted waters with Wooyoung, even when the sea is surging and he feels seasick. “I’m having a wonderful time,” he says, cheek pressed into his favourite NY cap, “Thank you for asking me out.”

The familiar sound of drums and horns blasts into the club and the crowd on the dancefloor bounce around them in celebration. Seonghwa straightens up, foot slapping down on the ground as his muscle memory kicks into gear.

“No way!” Yunho yells, grabbing the others so they’re in a circle together.

“If we’re too good we’ll attract attention,” Yeosang yells over Hongjoong’s ‘ _All eyes on me now!_ ’ that Yunho has already started animatedly rapping along to.

“Act bad?” Wooyoung laughs.

“Act bad!” The rest of them agree, exploding into the most forced uncoordinated rendition of WONDERLAND ever.

“Park Seonghwa!” Yunho shouts as Hongjoong’s rap ends.

“Jeong Yunho!” Yeosang calls in the next line.

“Jung Wooyoung!” Wooyoung tags himself in, “ _Ja yeollinda jinshire mun, geu apeseo_!”

Seonghwa breaks out into laughter, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung as they all jump and shout together, “ _WE ON FIRE!!_ ”

As they travel through the first refrain and pre-chorus, Seonghwa feels a connection with the crowd and he wonders if this is what it feels like to be part of ATINY in the thrum of excitement while they perform on stage. Perhaps it’s the three shots seeping completely into his bloodstream, but the atmosphere is intoxicating, countless heartbeats around them, jumping, flowing, singing their song in unison.

Jongho’s first high note trills through the club and a quiet moment as the music slips away, only to build anticipation for the chorus as it pounds across the room. Then, a hundred or more people yell, “FIX ON!” at the same time.

“I wish Mingi was here,” Yeosang yells out as Yunho and Wooyoung rap battle with each other, doing their best to pay tribute to their favourite Mingi idiosyncrasies.

“We have to do this again!” Seonghwa yells back, unable to stop himself from slipping into his line as the second verse hits. Yeosang and Wooyoung dramatically act out their parts to a delighted Yunho, who’s jumping up and down with the rest of the dancefloor.

And finally, the bridge washes over the crowd in a slow roll, the four members supporting the masses with their back up “ _Woah-oh-oh!_ ”. The melody builds, the people around them seem to make space for themselves, a foretelling calm before the storm.

Then, a deafening, “ _GEU IYUGA URIN MAME DEUREO!_ ”

It pops _off_. Seonghwa nearly cries at how overwhelmed he is, performing the dance break in perfect unison with the complete strangers around him.

“This is AMAZING!” Yunho shouts, as the song takes them into the final chorus, the home stretch. After a successful dance break, everyone on the dance floor freestyles, only to collectively yell the final line at the top of their lungs.

“ _EOSEO GAJA! EOSEO GAJA! KKEUTI GIDARINEUN SHIJAGEURO!!!_ ”

“ _Gaja!_ ” Yeosang, their contemporary ending fairy, sticking the final pose as the music fades away and an MC steps on stage to hype up the crowd. Seonghwa immediately tunes out, in fact, he’s having trouble concentrating in general, and has to lean on Wooyoung to catch his breath, really feeling how sweaty he is from the few songs they’ve been on the dance floor for.

Then the MC wraps up, ending his speech with, “Let’s get foamy!”

“Let’s get foamy?” Seonghwa repeats, raising a brow, then nearly jumps out of his skin as there are two consecutive bangs and white cream starts to spray out over the crowd as IDOL by BTS hits over the booming speakers. “What the hell is this?!”

Yunho titulates, “I didn’t know it was foam night!”

“Foam night?!” Seonghwa repeats as he cops a huge glob of the white stuff on his face, half of it slipping off his bucket hat to the floor.

“Foam fight!!!” Wooyoung shrieks, collecting up some foam into his hands and pelting it at Yeosang. There’s a consequent wave of mixed emotions, with some dancers being right in the middle of the action, and what he can only assume as those below average height being gifted with the feeling of drowning. Seonghwa cringes at his favourite jacket getting immediately soaked with wet foam, ends of his hair already becoming droopy and stuck together.

Tonight is his night to be irresponsible, but he has to draw the line somewhere.

_Wait._

The club is literally called _Suds Seoul._

 _This_ is the place their company greenlit?!

“Drink?” Seonghwa says into Wooyoung’s ear, hands wandering around his shoulders and then down to trap his arms so Yeosang gets a free shot to their step-in maknae’s face.

Wooyoung makes a strangled sound, coughing out suds as Yeosang nearly falls on the floor in hysterical laughter.

“How about I just get us both drinks and if you don’t want yours, more for me,” Seonghwa smirks, giving Yunho and Yeosang a curt nod, then makes to walk towards the bar before his jacket sleeve is grabbed.

“Seonghwa-hyung, you should slow down!” Wooyoung cautions, sneezing and a few bubbles come out of his nose.

Seonghwa’s eyes narrow and he snatches his arm away. What the hell? If he wants a drink, he’s going to have a fucking drink. Pissed off, Seonghwa stalks off the dancefloor, scanning the bar over for that hot bartender who offered him the free round, but he can’t find him. From behind, he hears Wooyoung catch up to him and Seonghwa turns around, tonguing the inside of his mouth with frustration.

“Seonghwa-hyung, you’ve already had five drinks, maybe have some water first,” Wooyoung says, strained, slipping a little from the wet floor.

Seonghwa squints, the vision of Wooyoung a little blearier than he remembered it. “You’re right, Woo,” he fibs with a smile behind his mask, “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom, then have some water and I’ll meet you… over on those seats over there, okay?”

Wooyoung’s shoulders ease, with a grateful exhale. “Okay, hyung, I’ll see you soon!” And he disappears back into the sea of bodies.

“Sorry, Young-ah,” Seonghwa murmurs under his breath and instead takes the stairs up to the second floor, planning to check out the other bars in hopes to catch that bartender. Just as he’s maneuvering through a hallway, he bashes his shoulder into someone hard and fumbles to steady them. “Ah! Are you alright?” he asks, hearing his voice slurring a little in his ears.

“Oh! Hey doll,” says a familiar voice. The bartender from before is carrying a milk tray of glasses which jostle loudly over the muffled music. “So, you got foamed, huh? Happens to the best of us.”

Seonghwa smiles, his heart skipping a beat. “I was looking for you!”

“Cashing in your next round voucher, are you?” the bartender winks, then looks around the hallway sneakily. In a lower tone, he says, “Follow me.”

Seonghwa’s chest tightens with the thrill of doing something risque, and follows the bartender closely down the hallway. He keys in a code to open a staff door and they travel down a set of grimy concrete stairs. The music fades away from above as Seonghwa is led into what looks to be a cellar.

“What’s your name, doll?” the bartender asks, placing his tray of glasses down on an upright keg.

“Jihoon,” Seonghwa lies, double checking that his mask is covering his nose and mouth.

“Cute. Love the choker.”

“Hah, thanks,” Seonghwa looks around, it’s a lot colder than in the club, with kegs stacked up and down the wall and to the far corner. The rest of the cellar is lined with fridges filled with different kinds of multipack drinks, like a liquor store would.

“You were drinking vodka, Jihoon?” the bartender asks, beckoning him over to one of the fridges.

“That’s right.”

He holds up an unopened bottle of Grey Goose with a wanton smirk. “Here you go, doll, you’ve been upgraded.” He pops the cork lid, then takes a swig for himself before holding it out.

Seonghwa pulls up the bottom of his mask to slip the neck of the bottle under and tip some of the liquid in his mouth. It goes down smoother than that bottom shelf vanilla vodka from earlier, leaving a warm simmer in his throat, rather than a burn. His heart beats excitedly, being so perversely irresponsible in this moment.

The others don’t even know where he is. It’s exhilarating.

The bartender’s eyebrows twitch with interest, giving Seonghwa a lewd look up and down. “You got a face, Jihoon? _If_ that is your real name.”

Seonghwa chuckles a little pressing his back against the glass door of the fridge, thumbing the top of the vodka bottle, eyes going half-lidded. “I’m just a dream boy. When you wake up, I’ll be gone.” He pulls up his mask to take another swig.

The guy just stands, still eyeing Seonghwa like he’s undressing him in his imagination. “Well, dream boy, I don’t need to see your face to know that you’re a hot piece of ass.”

Seonghwa smirks a little uncomfortably, then holds the bottle out for the other man’s turn, not really knowing what to say.

The bartender scoffs, an ugly, sinister grin pulling at his mouth and he’s suddenly not as handsome as he was behind the bar, when he was giving Seonghwa sweet, sultry winks. “Nah, I’m good. I’m more interested to know how you intend to reward me for my generosity?”

Seonghwa is confused. “You… said on the house,” he says slowly as the guy steps in and Seonghwa throws his hand forward to push back against his chest. His blood goes cold as a sudden panic sets in. No, this isn’t right. “Hey?! This wasn’t the deal.”

The guy licks his lips, bracketing Seonghwa in against the fridge door. “Aren’t you gonna be my dream boy? I don’t wanna wake up yet -” he says harshly, grabbing the collar of Seonghwa’s jacket collar too hard, and Seonghwa winces, hearing a tear.

 _Shit_.

This was really dumb.

Seonghwa shouldn’t have followed him down here. Why did he do that?

He needs to report this guy… Mr. Bartender what’s ‘is name?

Did he tell him his fucking name?!

“What’s wrong, doll? Freezing up on me? That’s okay, I can work with that too-”

Just as Seonghwa’s contemplating smashing the guy over the head with the vodka bottle, a loud clang sounds up the stairs and the bartender suddenly flinches back. “Fuck,” he hisses, pushing Seonghwa down the fridges and behind a tall stack of fruit boxes. “Don’t move, keep quiet and I’ll come back and get you.”

Seonghwa stays crouched down obediently, head throbbing, eyes wide and gripping the bottle of vodka like it’s an emotional support blanket. He hears some vague chatting, the clinking of glasses and then the ear-piercing scape of kegs. Heart beating at a sickening speed, Seonghwa grimaces, sucking down more vodka as his only relief.

At least that guy’s gone...

Seonghwa just needs to get back to Wooyoung… and then they can go home.

Oh… fuck, he’s going to be so hungover tomorrow.

Seonghwa waits in silence, but the bartender never comes back to get him. Eventually, when he’s sure he hasn’t heard anything for a while, he stands, wobbling on uneasy feet and moves forward. When he’s near the stairs, he stumbles, hitting a wall hard with his shoulder and hearing a scrape of his jacket studs against brick as well as the shattering of the vodka bottle.

It’s also the moment he forgets the rest of the night.

~*~

Wooyoung’s been waiting for nearly twenty minutes after coming off his second round on the dance floor but Seonghwa hasn’t come to meet him at the couches like he said. He’s drenched from head to toe now, shoes squelching uncomfortably when he walks. He’s grumpy and tired, he either wants to find Seonghwa and get a second wave or for all of them to just go home.

He looks at his phone, then sends Seonghwa a message asking him where he is, deciding to wait another five minutes before going to look for him if there’s no reply. When time’s up, Wooyoung stands, catching sight of that creepy bartender from earlier briskly walking past.

“Hey! Have you seen my friend, the vanilla vodka shots guy?” Wooyoung asks when he catches up to him.

“Fuck off!” the bartender spits back, causing Wooyoung to stumble back to a stop, eyeing his retreating back suspiciously.

That was weird.

With heightened anxiety, Wooyoung reluctantly dives back into the dance floor, which is currently in the middle of it’s second foam surge, to find his fellow members.

“Yeosang, Yeosang!!” Wooyoung shouts over the music, pushing himself through the crowd of dancers. Yeosang looks over, mid-way through creating a foam snowman in the middle of the dancefloor with Yunho and some other random people. Yeosang puts a hand to his ear and Wooyoung says through cupped hands, “Have you seen Hwa-hyung!?”

“What?” Yeosang yells back.

“Hwa!!”

“What?”

“PARK. SEONG. HWA!”

“Seonghwa-hyung!”

“Where is he?!”

Yeosang just shakes his head. “I thought he was with you. Is he okay?”

“I don’t know, can you help me find him?”

“What?!”

“HELP. ME. FIND. HIM!!” Wooyoung shrieks and Yeosang finally gets it, tugging on Yunho to gesture his head back to the bar.

They decide to split up to find Seonghwa and agree to meet back in twenty minutes if there’s no luck. If they can’t find him, they’ll have to tell their security but he _really_ doesn’t want to do that when he’s already in so much trouble with the company from the rehearsal incident.

Wooyoung heads upstairs to scan the smaller dancefloors on the second floor, weaving through the crush of people but he fails to find Seonghwa’s oversized bucket hat bobbing along the sea of heads. He doubles back, checking the hallways again and the balcony but still no familiar frame of Seonghwa. He’s heading towards the staircase to the third floor, passing a restroom and remembers that’s also a good place to look.

“Park S-” Wooyoung starts, but cuts off, seeing a couple of other patrons look up from the sinks, then turn back to look at themselves in the mirror, unbothered. “MARS! MARS?” he calls out instead, figuring that’s a little more discreet.

No answer.

Wooyoung is about to leave the bathroom when something tells him to turn back around. Three of the four stalls are occupied, so he drops to his knees, peering under the doors.

“Pervert,” one of the guys at the sink spits at him, then saunters out. Wooyoung shoots a glare to his back, then turns back to the stalls.

_Ah!_

He spots Seonghwa’s shoes but they’re facing the wrong way, and Wooyoung can see he’s knelt over the toilet. “Seonghwa-hyung,” he hisses, crawling over and shaking his foot, but it moves limply in his hand. He tries a little more aggressively. “Seonghwa-hyung?”

Wooyoung’s blood runs cold, heart twisting fearfully. “Seonghwa-hyung?!” he yells this time, voice strange and unnatural.

_Fuck._

_Fuck, fuck, FUCK!_

"N-No.." He fumbles for his phone, "No, no, no, no -" Vision swimming, he blearily taps around for that group chat they made earlier that day and keys in a frantic message.

 **sexy dancer [10:58 p.m.]  
** @yeosanggg @Jung.YunHo second floor mens bathro m  
hurry

 **✨ Ending Fairy ✨ [10:58 p.m.]  
** ok

 **sexiest dancer [10:58 p.m.]  
** omw

 **The Leader™ [10:58 p.m.]  
** **(** • • • **)**

“Excuse me, do you need help?”

Wooyoung starts and looks around to see a security guard, then shoves his phone into his pocket, the thing now buzzing frantically. “Y-Yes, my friend-” he points to the stall, stumbling up into a stand, pointing to the stall more strained now, “My friend, he, my friend-”

The security guard just nods, bending down to check under the stall, he then pulls out a pocket knife, using it to twist the metal lock open from the outside. The door pulls back to reveal Seonghwa, slumped over the toilet, head in the bowl.

“ _Seonghwa_!” Wooyoung wails, launching forward to shake him gently. He inadvertently reels from the smell in the toilet, an orange bumpy fluid coating the bowl. He hears the security guard behind him mutter indistinctly into a walkie-talkie, then he puts a hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder to guide him back.

“We need to move him to first aid, sir.”

“O-Okay,” Wooyoung says blankly, stumbling, looking around to see a small group of curious eyes gathering around the door, looking worried but keeping a respectable distance. Yeosang and Yunho appear out of the middle small crowd, eyes wide. Yunho gasps when the situation clicks.

Wooyoung runs forward and collapses into Yeosang, breaking down into tears. Yeosang holds him deathly tight as Yunho asks the security guard, “Is he breathing?”

“Follow me,” the security guard just says. He takes them through a back entrance and down through a door that says MANAGEMENT/SECURITY. They end up in a sterile looking room with several other people, appearing to nurse friends with equally frightened looks on their faces.

The security guard lays Seonghwa down on a bed, drawing a privacy curtain. After a few awful minutes, Seonghwa slips back into consciousness, mumbling nonsense, eyelids heavy, only to pass out again a few moments later. A first aid attendant concludes that he is okay, just drank too much too quickly and passed out while throwing up, also noting that there is no bump on his head to suggest that there is a concussion. When Seonghwa comes to again, he is given water and some pills, then ordered to go straight home. Yunho has already been on the phone to management, the night is cut short and their security pulls up their car for the twenty minute ride back to the dorms.

When they're all inside, one of their security takes off Seonghwa’s soaking jacket and hands it roughly to Wooyoung, so Seonghwa can be wrapped in an emergency heating blanket. Wooyoung grips the jacket tightly, feeling the tatty material between his fingers. It’s been scraped, stained and even ripped in some places. Wooyoung stares, fear growing in his stomach. It looks like Seonghwa got into a fight, or was assaulted somehow.

_Why didn’t I go looking for him earlier?_

_Why did I ask him out in the first place?_

_Seonghwa, please be alright, please please._

The tension in the car is thick, no one saying a word. Wooyoung finally registers why his left buttcheek keeps twitching, his phone that’s been buzzing non stop since he sent the first message in the bathroom. He arches his back to pull it out of his pocket, opening the group chat and he stops dead.

_Oh, fuck._

He posted Seonghwa’s location into the band group chat with _all of them_ , not the Refund Sisters one.

 **The Leader™ [10:58 p.m.]  
** What’s going on?!

 **The Leader™ [10:59 p.m.]  
** Hey!

 **WE LOVE YOU MINGIIIII [11:02 p.m.]  
** is everyone okay? Did something happen at the club?

 **The Leader™ [11:02 p.m.]  
** Club???????  
@jungwooyoung @kangyeosang @Jung.YunHo answer me

**[11:02 p.m.] Missed call from The Leader™**

**[11:02 p.m.] Missed call from The Leader™**

**[11:05 p.m.] Missed call from The Leader™**

**[11:06 p.m.] Missed call from The Leader™**

**aegyo demon [11:15 p.m.]  
** What’s going on???

 **high note don [11:17 p.m.]  
** hey can someone please answer  
I’m freaking out

**[11:20 p.m.] Missed call from The Leader™**

**[11:21 p.m.] Missed call from The Leader™**

**sexiest dancer [11:21 p.m.]  
** everyone’s okay we’ll be home soon

Hands shaking violently, Wooyoung closes the phone and places it down on Seonghwa’s ruined jacket. He slowly bends in half, pressing his forehead into his knuckles to hide an ugly grimace at how angry he is at himself. The sobs come, and he feels Yeosang’s warm, small hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles as they reach closer and closer to the dorms…

~*~

_**12 HOURS EARLIER . . .** _

“Sexy delivery!” San calls as he enters the studio, realizing quite quickly that there is a very real chance that Hongjoong is not alone and that EDEN is there, but whatever, he’s already committed. “-- you’re not live, are you?”

Hongjoong snorts from his desk, his headphones half-on and half-off, a small cluster of MONSTER energy drinks stacked neatly and off to the side away from any electronics. “No, you’re not blowing your reveal on my VLIVE again,” he assures, smirking when San turns scarlet. “You’re so lucky ATINY was willing to play along and tell everyone online that your hair was still black.”

“I just wanted to say hi!” San whines, pouting as he closes the studio door behind him. He shuffles further in, carrying two bags of takeaway. “You didn’t say what you wanted so I kind of got what _I_ wanted. Luckily the lady at the restaurant knew your order off by heart so she fixed it.” He sets the bags down on a small table that has two chairs seated at it, beginning to take out the containers and utensils. “Come on, come on.”

Groaning as his joints protested the movement as he gets up, stretching with loud cracks coming from his back and shoulders. “Thanks for bringing it, Sannie. Sorry you’re doing this on your day off.”

San smiles and shakes his head. “I didn’t have anything else planned anyway.”

“How’s your tattoo?” Hongjoong asks, rubbing his chest gently. “The wrap is still on, right? You shouldn’t take that off until 11 p.m. tonight.”

After he’s set down the second pair of chopsticks, San pulls out Jimin’s move from _Blood, Sweat & Tears_, shucking off the shoulder of his zip-up hoodie so Hongjoong can see his left shoulder. The wrap is still mostly adhering to his skin, showing signs of peeling off but for the most part is still as secure as it was the night before. “Take a look, Leader-ssi.”

Hongjoong snorts, but there’s a fond smile on his lips as he comes closer, gently peeling and pulling at the adhesive to get a closer look at how San’s tattoo is healing. His fingers are gentle as he runs the pads along San’s upper arm, tracing the lines and looking closely to see if any part of it is infected. San blushes and looks away as he catches sight of Hongjoong’s sharp-eyed gaze, inspecting each and every inch of him.

“How does it look?” San gulps, looking away to the table. (Keep it together, Choi.)

The older man is close, maybe too close as he takes a closer look at the HALA HALA skull. “A little bleeding, but not too bad,” Hongjoong finally says, his voice soft. “Is it itchy?”

San nods, sadly. “It’s the worst, hyung,” he whines. “I want to claw my arm off but you told me not to so I’m trying not to.”

Amused, Hongjoong reaches up and plucks San’s hat off his head, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Good, that means it’s healing,” he says, nodding. “It’s going to suck for the next while, but it looks like it’s actually healing really well. Of course you being amazing would also apply to how your skin heals.”

“What about yours?” San asks, trying not to blush.

“Mine?” Hongjoong echoes, plopping San’s hat back on his head as he shifts, pulling down the wide neck of his t-shirt. San’s breath catches in his throat as he catches sight of the clear wrap and the vibrantly coloured tattoo underneath. He smirks as he sees San’s eyes widen, eyes cascading down his tanned skin. “Don’t take too long a look, our food is getting cold,” he teases.

San turns as pink as his hair and he pulls back, quickly sitting back down at the table. He tugs his takeaway container over to himself, and cracks the lid, hastily grabbing his chopsticks. Hongjoong laughs and joins him, doing the same. “You’re looking a little better today,” San says, flicking his eyes up. “Are things going well with EDEN-sunbae?”

To his surprise, Hongjoong shakes his head. “We’re cutting it too close to the deadline we need to get the tracks in to all the distributors - digital, anyway. There’s a problem with the production of the physical versions’ posters or the photocards, I think, so they’re getting delayed. We’re under pressure; we should’ve had this in a while ago, but… there’s one track causing a lot of trouble.”

Frowning, San chews and swallows his gimbap. “ _Time of Love_?” he guesses.

“Yeah. I hit a wall on it and EDEN has too,” Hongjoong admits, tapping his chopsticks against the edge of his styrofoam container. “We have all the pieces but they’re not fitting together. It’s even worse that I don’t even feel what I did when I made that song.”

Hongjoong says it flippantly, quickly, but San catches the meaning hidden within the leader’s words: he wrote the song when he was head-over-heels in love with Seonghwa, and now that the landscape has changed, he’s unsure of what that love means now. He still loves the eldest member, of that San’s certain, but Hongjoong is in the same boat as him: what form does that love take now?

Especially when the one you love is in love with someone else.

They eat in relative silence, and once they’ve finished and cleaned up the table, San decides to take his shot. “Can I listen to the song?”

“You… want to listen to it?” Hongjoong asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I know I’m not a producer like you or EDEN-sunbae, but… maybe an outside perspective might help?” San offers, anxiously. He doesn’t have any music production experience, but if they’re really hitting a wall like this after working on the song for so long, what else is there left to lose?

Hongjoong looks thoughtful before nodding and gesturing with his hand for San to follow him. He pulls up a spare chair and waits for San to sit before doing so himself, and queues up the song, gently plopping the headphones over San’s head. “Ready?”

“Ready!” San closes his eyes as the song begins to play, and listens intently. He remembers the lyrics and melody - or at least of his parts and harmonies - but even with his non-existent production experience, he can feel there’s something missing in the song. “It doesn’t sound like us,” he says after a long moment. “The parts with you and Mingi-hyung sound like us, but the rest of it sounds like a weird rip off…you know? What if… is it …”

“...what?”

San tugs the headphones off his ears and rests them around his neck, idly rubbing his sleeve to alleviate the itchiness of his tattoo. “Okay, obviously the song is about being in love, but it’s like… when I look at the lyrics, when I listen to them, it’s about love _of all types_. Not just that new feeling of love, but... “ He lowers his voice, “hyung, it’s also about a love you’ve had for a long time, one you know inside and out. It’s tough, and it’s painful, but it’s also beautiful and colourful… ‘nobody’s perfect’.”

Silence permeates the room and San wonders for a moment if he’s gone too far and talked too much out of his ass. But as he listened to the whole song with everyone’s parts laid in, he was positive of what he felt. “Does it sound… too fluffy?”

“It needs like… a depth? Like the parts for you and Mingi-hyung, take it, pitch up and add some … I dunno, zazz to the rest of the beat? Make it funky, tropical. We’re pirates, right?” San reminds him, laughing. “What do you think, Pirate King Kim Hongjoong?”

He can see the gears turning in Hongjoong’s head, and the rapper pulls a pad of paper over and begins writing something down at a furious pace, his writing surprisingly legible and honestly, kind of pretty. Once he’s done, his thoughts written down on paper, Hongjoong turns and San starts, feeling like the eyes of a predator settle on him like he’s their prey.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

“...Hyung, are you still hungry?” San asks, a bit coy. “I don’t know if we have time for a second serving.”

The air’s shifted now that the song has a direction to finish up in, and the creative adrenaline is spiking through not only Hongjoong’s veins, but San’s as well. “I was just thinking that you should get a little reward for being so helpful, Sannie,” Hongjoong murmurs. “If you want.”

“...how long do we have?” San asks in response, and probably against his better judgment. Then again… they did agree to this, and they knew where the other stood. It wasn’t a permanent arrangement, but it’s the one that they need right now.

Hongjoong glances at his phone. “Under an hour, so we shouldn’t do it in here.”

San gulps and nods, looking around. “I don’t think I could, after… you know.” He chews on his bottom lip and his gaze falls on the door. “Depends on how quick and dirty you wanna do it. I’ve done it in bathrooms a couple of times, in between sets at our concerts.”

“...What.”

He realizes then that he never actually admitted any of this out loud to Hongjoong, it was always him and Wooyoung being reckless, having their sexual escapades down to a science. Quickly, San pushes the memories back and focuses on the moment. “Um, don’t worry about it, it’s in the past,” San says quickly. “Point is, I know how not to get caught.”

Hongjoong narrows his eyes slightly, tongue poking at the inside of his right cheek. “So you’re telling me that you’re some kind of expert at quickies? Are you going to put that on your _Kpop profile_?”

San snorts. “Do you want to or not?”

“Yeah.” Hongjoong pushes himself up, rubbing his neck. “Let’s go to the sixth floor; no one’s ever there and the washrooms up here are out of service.”

“I like the way you think,” San says with a grin. “Let’s go.”

They agree to split up and go down there at a staggered time, meeting up in one of the stalls in the abandoned sixth floor. San waits about a second after Hongjoong slips into his stall and makes sure that the door’s locked before pushing him up against it. He dives forward to capture the rapper’s lips in a kiss, but Hongjoong moves at the last minute and lets out a sigh of relief when San’s lips fasten themselves to his neck.

That’s twice now he’s tried to kiss Hongjoong and that’s twice that Hongjoong has ducked him. San’s brows furrow in mild confusion before he remembers his conversation with Jongho.

_“Oh my God, they’re in love with each other.”_

Of course.

Hongjoong is in love with Seonghwa. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, as much as Hongjoong fusses about showing his love for the other members when they’re doing variety shows, San can see from the way that the older man has continually tries to confess to Seonghwa with dates, little gifts of his love language, written songs, that their dear Leader is actually quite the romantic. It would then stand to reason that he wouldn’t want to kiss anybody else but the person he’s in love with.

(So traditional,) San thinks with a smile, kissing down Hongjoong’s flushed neck and giving a bit of a nip at the area around his tattoo. “Don’t worry, I won’t steal your kisses,” he murmurs against the soft skin, “I’ll put my mouth to better use.”

“Haa…” Hongjoong’s eyes flutter back into his head as San grinds up against him, and the vocalist can see the disassociation begin with leaving responsibility and feelings behind for a few minutes in Hongjoong’s body language. “That so?”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” San agrees.

Just as he’s about to drop down to his knees, Hongjoong catches his hand. “Wait. I didn’t bring anything,” he says, realization crossing his features.

San blinks at him and laughs a little, reaching into the pocket of his sweatpants and presses two foil squares into Hongjoong’s hand: a condom, and a packet of lube.

“Just how many times have you done this?” Hongjoong looks equal parts incredulous and impressed.

“Never you mind,” San mutters, glancing back and pulling the lid down on the toilet before sitting down on the edge and tugging Hongjoong over by the hips. He pulls the waistband down of Hongjoong’s sweats, licking his lips. While he doesn’t get the same kind of thrill when going down on someone like Wooyoung does, he couldn’t deny the rush of power he feels when he can make someone lose themselves with his mouth alone.

Hongjoong’s fingers card through San’s hot pink hair, eyes dark. He grips a bit of the longish ends at San’s nape, a slow, sly smirk creasing his lips. It was a look he wore a lot during the _WONDERLAND_ era, with his sharp undercut and his rat tail. “This what you want, Sannie?”

San tests his grip on Hongjoong’s hips, and feels a slight pull at his hair when he grips a little too tight. Ah, so that’s the limit. Good, now he can play within that, see what Hongjoong likes within that. The vocalist looks up and shakes his head. “I want to fuck. Nothing too rough, though; we still have practice.”

“Agreed.” Hongjoong nods slightly, gently massaging San’s scalp with his fingers, urging the younger man to take what he wants. He lets out a soft, shaky sigh as San takes him into his mouth, head lightly hitting the stall door. San can feel him suddenly jerk, making sure that he’s not leaning heavily against the door, and a devious glint passes through his eyes. He hollows his cheeks and sucks a bit harder, delighting in Hongjoong’s choked moan, one that’s quickly silenced by his hand clapping over his mouth.

While he would like to take his time, San knows they don’t have it so he doubles down on his efforts, paying close attention to each buck of Hongjoong’s hips, to the catches in his breath, to the hushed curses. Although he knows he shouldn’t, San can’t help but think about how different this is from when he’s with Wooyoung.

Wooyoung is loud, vocal, uninhibited and incapable of staying still. San has to hold him down and keep him quiet and it’s a game that goes back and forth, a push and a pull. Hongjoong, on the other hand, is like a coiled spring: tightly wound, but when the power is unleashed, it’s incredible. There’s such tight control of his movements, of his expressions, of his touches. San doesn’t know how he does it.

Even now, while San’s working him and he can feel him harden quickly in his mouth, Hongjoong’s expression has only darkened with lust; he hasn’t done anything except rhythmically tighten his hand in San’s hair. His breaths are quiet, they’re controlled, but they’re filled with lust.

They both know what the score is here - it’s just to get off, they’re not who the other wants to be doing this with, but they know that this… is what they need right now. In order for their frustrations, their feelings, the stress of being an idol, of being someone who lost the love of their life… in order for their shit not to affect the group, it stays between San and Hongjoong.

“That’s enough, Sannie,” Hongjoong murmurs, firmly tugging on San’s hair. “On your feet.”

(Finally.) San carefully rises, and turns around, casting a coy wink before pressing his hands against the bathroom wall, steadying himself. His pulse quickens as Hongjoong slips the two foil packets into his pocket, letting his hands run along the expanse of San’s back, sliding around to brush along his hard-earned abs. “Hurry, hyung.”

“We’re fine,” Hongjoong replies, unconcerned as he slowly runs his hands along San’s tanned skin. San can _feel_ the smile on Hongjoong’s lips as he easily gets San pliant, with the vocalist pushing his hips back at the slightest nudge. His breath hitches as Hongjoong finally tugs his sweatpants down, and he lowers his head, unable to keep the grin from his lips as Hongjoong’s fingers brush between his cheeks. “...San.”

“...Yeah, hyung?”

“Did you plan this?”

San huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, obviously. I didn’t want to waste time with prep. -- come on, hurry.”

Hongjoong snorts, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t even want to think about how many times you’ve done this.”

“Then hop to it, Leader-ssi.” He flinches and lets out a hushed, choked back moan as Hongjoong claps a hand to his hip, somehow angling and cupping his hand so while the force is there, there’s barely a sound. “S-Sorry.”

The rapper presses a kiss to San’s back as he pushes up the basic white t-shirt San’s wearing, the smirk tattooing itself to the flushed skin of the dancer. “Behaving so well for me, Sannie; I didn’t think you could be trained,” he murmurs, and San feels a shiver course through his veins; shit, how could Hongjoong hide this side of himself so well?

San bites his fist as Hongjoong slowly pulls the plug out, wiggling it a little bit and watching as San’s breath hitches and how he instinctively pushes back against it. “Hurry,” he whispers. “I want it.”

“You’re lucky that I want it too,” Hongjoong mutters, finally pulling the plug out and yanking off a few squares of toilet paper, resting the toy on top of the toilet paper dispenser. “So you were wearing this the whole time? What if EDEN was there?”

“Haa... would’ve waited,” San replies, closing his eyes and hanging his head as he hears Hongjoong get himself ready, the sound of the condom wrapper then the slick roll of the latex giving him the tingles. He swallows and dares to cast a glance over his shoulder to the rapper. “Ready?”

Hongjoong doesn’t respond right away, slicking up the condom with the packet of lube before pulling San’s hips back towards his own. “Yeah. You?”

“Been ready,” San mumbles, wincing when Hongjoong digs his fingers in.

“Gentle, right?”

“Yeah, not too rough. Plus, we gotta keep quiet,” San confirms.

Hongjoong hums in reply, running a hand down San’s back with one hand while he guides himself in with the other. San gasps and swallows down a moan, letting himself float on the heady scents, on the delicious burn, on Hongjoong’s throaty growl right by his ear as he buries himself in San, right to the hilt. “...you okay?”

San nods instinctively before Hongjoong pulls him back a little roughly, a warning. “Y-Yeah, I’m good,” he confirms, struggling to get his two remaining brain cells to rub together long enough to respond. He really didn’t think he’d have this kind of sexual chemistry with _Hongjoong_ of all people, but it was a small mercy in a sequence of time that was quite possibly one of the worst things he’d gone through. He blinks as Hongjoong still hasn’t started to move, and realizes something. “Three taps, to your arm.”

“Good,” Hongjoong says in reply, rewarding the vocalist with a slow roll of his hips, testing the waters on a new rhythm. “Yeah, I think this’ll work.” He seems to be talking more to himself, but he rests a hand on San’s right shoulder as he moves, keeping the pace deep, slow, and _strong_. It’s not the frantic, rough sex they had the first time in Hongjoong’s studio, but San can still feel that overwhelming pleasure.

“S-Shit, how do you do this?” San asks in disbelief, wiping his mouth to stop the drool. For his efforts, San gets Hongjoong’s ring-adorned fingers in his mouth, holding his mouth open. The not-so-subtle power play sends a spike of adrenaline through his veins and gives him the boost to move back in time with the rapper’s thrusts.

They don’t last too long like this - both of them are pent up, frustrated with the situation not only professionally but personally as well. Their brief escape is narrowed down to just this tiny bathroom stall, to their hushed moans and stuttered breaths, to the soft slap of skin on skin, the muted rustle of clothing. Hongjoong presses his mouth against San’s upper back as he suddenly climaxes, biting down hard enough and sucking hard enough in an attempt to swallow up his moan that he leaves a bright hickey.

The possessive, raw, primal nature of that triggers San’s own climax, his body trembling at the idea of being _marked_ , of being _used_ but in a way that isn’t demeaning. Hongjoong chose a specific spot that would be hidden by his clothes, that wouldn’t be seen even through his revealing costumes. Somehow… San felt _taken care of_. “F-Fuck… so good…” he whispers once Hongjoong’s moved his hands, sliding his spit-slicked fingers down San’s chin and jaw. “Y-You good?”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong confirms, pulling himself back. “Sorry, I bit you pretty hard just now… are you okay?”

“Don’t worry about it, it was hot,” San admits, groaning softly against his arm as Hongjoong pulls out, going to great lengths to dispose of the condom and clean both of them up.

“What are we going to do about this?” Hongjoong asks, holding up the plug, thumb running over the jewelled handle.

“Ah, just put it back in me; I’m heading back to the dorms after this,” San replies easily, like he’s talking about the weather.

“...San.”

“Yeah?”

“...how many times have you done this?”

“I plead the fifth. Now come on; we need to be getting back, hyung.”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “Right, I need plausible deniability.”

San smirks. “No denying how good of a fuck you are.” He coos as a bright blush colours Hongjoong’s cheeks, and he reaches out to pinch them, only to be swatted away.

“I’m leaving now.”

“Just a pump and dump, huh?”

“Shut _up_ , San.”

*

Watching Hongjoong work is like watching a masterpiece being created right before his eyes.

San’s not even watching the screen anymore; his eyes have drifted and remain on Hongjoong, chewing on his lip as their leader works away on the song. He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there watching Hongjoong until the older man slams his hand down on the desk with a triumphant cry. “Listen!” Hongjoong exclaims, tugging San over and putting the headphones back on his head. “Listen, listen! This is it, right?”

Startled from the rapper’s unbridled enthusiasm, San smiles and adjusts the headphones, feeling his heart jump a little bit at the sparkle in Hongjoong’s eyes. “Let me listen first,” San jokes, clearing his throat to get himself composed.

“Oh, right! Here.” Hongjoong turns back to the computer, queueing up the song and pressing play. “Tell me what you think, okay?”

“I will,” San promises, closing his eyes to listen to the song. His eyes flash open as soon as the song starts; it’s completely different. “This is… this is it,” he says after the song finishes, smiling widely. “This is us, this is ATEEZ.”

Triumphantly, Hongjoong lets out a whoop and shoots up from his seat, clenching his hands into fists as he pumps them up into the air. San can see rolls of relief cascade down the leader’s slender frame in waves, and it’s a beautiful sight. “I’m starving. Let’s order something, Sannie.”

San blinks and nods. “Yeah, sure!” It’s a bit late now, well into the night when San checks his phone. “What’s good for dinner at… 9:30 p.m.?”

Hongjoong blinks and looks at his own phone. “Shit. Uh, well, anything if you’re adventurous enough. But I’m really craving McDonald’s right now. Just something greasy and … American, you know?”

“Ah, the food of champions,” San agrees and watches as Hongjoong pulls up an ordering app, putting in his own order and handing his phone to San to put in his own. “Our nutritionist is gonna kill me.”

“You’ll be fine,” Hongjoong promises. “One burger isn’t going to make those rock hard abs of yours go away. I bet I could still eat off them.”

San’s eyebrows shoot up and his eyes widen in surprise. Hongjoong seems to realize what he’s said when he sees San’s reaction. “Oh. So you’ve been _thinking_ about me and my abs, have you?”

“ _No_ ,” Hongjoong retorts, taking his phone back and making the order. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you admitting you’d want to give me a naked massage.”

“At least I’m honest about it,” San counters in a sing-song voice, swinging back and forth in his swivel chair. “But hyung, this is it for the album?”

Hongjoong nods, relieved for the shift in conversation. “Yeah, it’s done and processed. I just need to send it off to EDEN and management, and we’re done. The physical CD versions are delayed anyway because of a manufacturing error with photocards on the first press, but we can make the digital album deadline.”

San sighs in relief and leans back in the chair. “Thank god.”

Their food arrives quickly, and soon San and Hongjoong find themselves sitting on the floor, spreading their food out in one big communal pile as they use the burger wrappers and napkins as a makeshift tablecloth. It brings back memories of eating just cheap, garbage food during their trainee days, not wanting to incur high costs for their company. Hongjoong laughs at something San says while lamenting about his disappearing abs, his nose crinkling and his eyes squeezing shut.

It’s… really cute.

San quickly swallows his food down and looks at the last bite of his burger, shoving the rest of it into his mouth. (Okay, don’t panic. You’re just developing a crush on Hongjoong, your Leader, who is in the midst of intense romantic turmoil with the love of his life while you’re on the outs with the love of _your_ life … keep this shit to yourself, Choi San, and process it later.)

“Thanks for coming by Sannie,” Hongjoong is saying, popping a chicken nugget into his mouth as he breaks San out of his spiralling thoughts, “and for all of the hard work you’ve been doing lately, helping out with the schedules and stuff. I appreciate it.”

A bright pink blush that almost matches his hair colours San’s tanned cheeks and he bows deeply. Saving him from responding is a sudden deluge of notifications from their group chat.

 **sexy dancer [10:58 p.m.]  
** @kangyeosang @Jeong.YunHo second floor mens bathro m  
hurry

 **✨ Ending Fairy ✨ [10:58 p.m.]  
** ok

 **sexiest dancer [10:58 p.m.]  
** omw

Hongjoong’s eyes narrow and he bites down hard on the french fry in his mouth while he types out something into the group chat.

 **The Leader™ [10:58 p.m.]  
** What’s going on?!

 **The Leader™ [10:59 p.m.]  
** Hey!

San’s eyebrows furrow as he looks at the sequence of messages. “What the hell does that mean? ‘Second floor men’s bathroom’?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” Hongjoong mutters. His eyes are laser focused on the group chat, shoving another chicken mcnugget into his mouth, chewing anxiously. Three agonising minutes pass, before three dots from Mingi appears, then:

 **WE LOVE YOU MINGIIIII [11:02 p.m.]  
** is everyone okay? Did something happen at the club?

Hongjoong chokes on his food and he quickly swallows, fingers typing away quickly on the virtual keyboard on his phone.

 **The Leader™ [11:02 p.m.]  
** Club???????  
@jungwooyoung @kangyeosang @JeongYunHo answer me

There’s no answer.

San can feel Hongjoong’s panic rising exponentially and the rapper suddenly slams his thumb down on the call button, almost smashing the phone to the side of his face.

“Anything?” San’s almost afraid of the answer.

“No. Fuck.” Hongjoong continues to call the group chat roughly four more times in a row, getting nothing in response. He’s pushed himself up to his feet at this point, and with each call, his footsteps are getting louder, more harried and his pacing route is getting wider. “What the fuck is happening!? Why isn’t anyone picking up!?”

It’s past eleven o’clock now, and San’s getting anxious now himself. No one’s responded past Hongjoong’s flurry of calls, so San jumps in.

 **aegyo demon [11:15 p.m.]  
** What’s going on???

 **high note don [11:17 p.m.]  
** hey can someone please answer  
I’m freaking out

"It's weird that Seonghwa-hyung hasn't said anything," San observes, as he’s scrolling up and down through the last twenty minutes of messages.

Hongjoong growls, though it’s got a bit of a desperate whine to it as he calls the group chat two more times before suddenly stopping as a call comes through. “What the fuck is -- shit, that’s Manager Sunghyon.” He quickly answers and puts the call on speakerphone. “Manager! Do you know what’s going on with Wooyoung on the others?”

“Is San with you?” Sunghyon’s voice is as pressed as Hongjoong’s.

“Yeah, he is. Manager, what’s going on?”

“It’s Seonghwa; something happened at the club he went to with Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang. They’re fine, but I want all of you back at the dorms. Now.”

“On our way!” San confirms.

“Good. Thank you.”

Hongjoong is a flurry of activity, gathering up the trash on the floor and throwing it into the garbage can while simultaneously trying to find and grab his jacket, keys, and wallet. “San, come on!”

“Coming!” San is half a step behind Hongjoong before he realizes something and suddenly breaks right, going over to Hongjoong’s computer. He clicks on the audio file, attaching it to an email and addressing it to EDEN with a cc to Hongjoong’s KQ email. He doesn’t have time to add more than ‘TIME OF LOVE - FINAL’ to the subject line before he hears Hongjoong scream from outside the studio room.

“ _SAN!_ ”

“COMING!” San slams the ‘Send’ button and locks the computer, throwing on his jacket as he runs out after Hongjoong. He has to really push himself to catch up with Hongjoong, who’s practically sprinting down the hall towards the elevators. Their leader is vibrating with anxiousness, with panic, and San quietly takes his hand in his. “It’s going to be okay.”

Hongjoong looks over at him, face ashen with worry. “Something happened to _Seonghwa_ ,” he says, his voice hushed, almost broken.

“Whatever happened, he’s okay enough to come home,” San points out, though he’s equally as panicked as they hurry into the waiting vehicle outside of KQ. “We gotta stay calm, okay? We won’t be of any use if we’re panicking too. Deep breaths, hyung. In, out, in out…” He squeezes Hongjoong’s hand. “Focus on me, okay?”

Hongjoong is half-listening as the car speeds down the street, making a beeline towards their dormitory. “Please be okay, Seonghwa,” he whispers to the air, gripping his phone and San’s hand like they’re his only lifelines.

~*~

He feels like he’s having an out of body experience.

Hongjoong strains his neck painfully, holding Jongho's hand as San hugs Mingi, watching management, security and the other half of the members file into the dorm. The bodies peel away to reveal Seonghwa being rolled in with a wheelchair and Hongjoong's stomach clenches with fear. Seonghwa, white shirt marked with dirt and stains, is mumbling incoherently, slipping in and out of consciousness as Yunho holds his hand, as if coaching him through it. The club-goers are dishevelled and damp, their hair sticking in strands where it's re-dried.

Manager Sunghyon’s voice breaks Hongjoong out of his spiral. "We need to clean up Seonghwa, then I'm going home to bed and will be back tomorrow to talk this over. Hongjoong, I know comeback season is tough but I _need_ you to employ some control on the members because this is unacceptable. I expected better from you.” he looks at his phone, stressed. "We're lucky Dispatch hasn't contacted me yet… Maybe we'll get away with it; the lighting at _Suds_ is horrendous."

"Yes, Manager, it won't happen again." Hongjoong bows deeply. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Seonghwa is taken straight to the bathroom by Yunho and Mingi while San talks with Yeosang and Jongho, confusion swirling in the air. In truth, Hongjoong should be doing what San is, but he can only think about one thing: Seonghwa. Movement catches his attention from out of the corner of his eye and he suddenly moves, stopping Wooyoung from following Yunho and Mingi.

“You and I need to talk,” he says, his voice simultaneously icy and shaking with worry. “Right now.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widen with fear as realization sets in and a brief flash of guilt passes through Hongjoong before it quickly vanishes, overtaken by his overwhelming need to protect Seonghwa, his love for the eldest manifesting into something instinctive. He forces down the other side of that instinct, of blaming and taking his frustrations out on Wooyoung because of his blossoming relationship with Seonghwa.

He has to be the Leader now.

“O-Okay.”

Hongjoong leads Wooyoung to ‘The Room’ - it’s essentially an empty room for when someone wants some quiet away from the others in the dorm. A quiet space to either meditate, to decompress, or to even take a nap. But what it’s mostly used for is for Hongjoong’s lectures when they fuck up. Every single of one of them hates it, and they dread having to go there. Whenever Hongjoong says ‘do you want to come to my room?’ he doesn’t mean his personal room with Seonghwa, he means this room. Wooyoung is shaking as he follows Hongjoong to the room, and jumps when Hongjoong closes the door behind them. “Sit.”

“R-Right.” Wooyoung gulps and sits down, gripping a wrecked piece of fabric in his hands like it’s the only thing that’s going to save him now.

Quietly, Hongjoong sits down across from the dancer, relieved that there’s a desk in between them. He intertwines his fingers and clasps them tightly as he rests them on the desk, not to look intimidating but to keep himself from flying off the handle. “I want to know what happened. From the beginning. Don’t leave anything out.”

Wooyoung flinches at Hongjoong’s tone, and he’d be lying if he didn’t feel some sort of gross satisfaction at that. “I-I asked Seonghwa-hyung out to dinner… and we were gonna go to a club afterwards, w-with Yunho-hyung and Yeosang…”

“You asked Seonghwa out on a _date?_ ” the venomous question is out of Hongjoong’s mouth before he can stop it.

The dancer goes pale, no doubt catching the look of unbridled rage that passes like a blink across Hongjoong’s face. The expression’s gone in an instant, leaving only the cold, impassive Leader look he has during these dreaded meetings. “Y-Yeah,” Wooyoung gulps, swallowing thickly. “We were at dinner, and then Yeosangie and Yunho-hyung met up with us… and we went to _Suds Seoul_.”

Hongjoong’s eyes darken dangerously. “Our comeback is breathing down our necks and you decided now was the time to go to a _nightclub_?” His lips curl into an annoyed snarl. “Yunho and Yeosang should know better. _Seonghwa_ should know better. So should _you_.”

A nasty part of him thinks, _or Seonghwa usually would know better, but he’s been making some questionable choices since you two have gotten involved with each other. You’re the reason he’s falling away from me_. Hongjoong ignores the nasty voice, shoving it into the background. No. He won’t listen to that voice. Nothing good will come out of listening to that voice.

No matter how much he wants to.

He has to think clearly. He has to be objective.

Wooyoung curls in on himself, remorse written all over his face. “We just wanted to go dancing,” he explains, his voice small. “Seonghwa-hyung seemed so excited to go out and go dancing, and I wanted to do something nice for him since he’s always worrying himself stupid over everything… Manager said it would be okay if at least three of us w-went t-to make up for t-the tattoos with BTS-sunbaenim… and there were four of us! I thought it’d be fine!”

Hongjoong closes his eyes and suppresses the surge of anger, his whole body visibly tensing in the seat to keep it down. To infer that this mess happened because of _San and him…_ Wooyoung had a lot of fucking nerve.

No.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

He’s the Leader.

“So what happened in between ‘I thought it would be fine’ and Seonghwa getting so fucked up that he had to be brought home half-unconscious?” Hongjoong asks, his voice cutting.

It looks like there’s nothing Wooyoung would like less than to continue, but he also knows what will happen if he disobeys a direct question from Hongjoong, so he swallows and looks down at his hands that are still clutching what seems to be a mangled denim jacket. “Seonghwa-hyung was going really hard with the drinks… I tried to keep an eye on him but he got away from all of us at one point. I remember hearing a bartender offer him a round early on, a-and he was being pretty flirty... I don’t know what happened,” Wooyoung says, sounding absolutely distraught. “I found him in the men’s bathroom… a-and a security guard broke open the stall door. He’d…” Wooyoung shakes with a sudden wail, two fat tears slipping down his cheeks. He manages to compose himself and continues, “- he’d passed out. H-He was okay once we got him checked out at first aid, he was coming to… they gave him some pills and sent us home.”

If Hongjoong’s blood pressure could go higher, it would have in that moment. He wasn’t sure whether he was furious at Wooyoung for losing Seonghwa, or Seonghwa for being so stupid and reckless he got himself blackout drunk from what Hongjoong can only assume to be a series of free-of-charge long pours from a creepy bartender.

It was so wildly out of character for Seonghwa that Hongjoong didn’t know what to think. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he heard Yunho or even Wooyoung had gotten sloppy drunk, but Seonghwa?

What was happening to him?

“And in that time none of you responded to my messages or my calls.”

Wooyoung frowns, and looks down at the lump of fabric in his hands. Hongjoong has half a mind to grab it and smack him with it. “I didn’t realize we were in the main group chat, I-I thought I’d sent that message to the small gc we set up with Yunho-hyung, Seonghwa-hyung and Yeosangie.”

“And you didn’t answer my calls.”

Wooyoung’s frown deepens. “I sent the text when I found him, then the security guard… then we were at first aid calling Manager… it happened so fast… like about twenty, maybe thirty minutes. I-I'm sorry, I assumed someone else would have responded, I didn't… I was so scared, I wanted to make sure Seonghwa-hyung was okay! I … this isn’t what I wanted to happen at all! I just… I just wanted to make sure Seonghwa-hyung could relax. He’s been so stressed out!”

“You are so lucky that Dispatch didn’t get wind of this, that there weren’t Saesangs that were lurking around this close to our comeback,” Hongjoong hisses, eyes narrowing. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to say to the company about this, but I would brace myself, Wooyoung; you’re probably not getting out of this unscathed.”

Flinching strongly, Wooyoung nods, barely holding himself together. “Can I … Can I at least see Seonghwa-hyung? I wanna give him his jacket --”

“ _You’ve_ done _enough_ ,” Hongjoong snaps, causing Wooyoung to jump in his seat. “Go clean up, and stay in your room until either me or Manager Sunghyon gets you.” Wooyoung is shaky as he gets to his feet and Hongjoong finally sees that the weird mass of fabric he’s holding is Seonghwa’s jacket.

The one Hongjoong got him for his 21st birthday.

_“Oh! That’s really beautiful.”_

_“You should get it, Hwa.”_

_“I… I don’t know. Do you think it suits me, even? It’s a lot of silver studs and it’s pretty pale, that blue is… isn’t it too girly?”_

_“I think you’d make anything look amazing.”_

_“Haha, Joong… come on. Let’s get going; if we don’t hurry, Yeosang’s going to sell Mingi to get fried chicken.”_

_“I hate how likely that is.”_

“...Leave the jacket.”

“What?”

“The jacket. Leave it.”

“But--”

“Are you talking back to me, Wooyoung?”

Horror flashes on Wooyoung’s face and he quickly shakes his head, dropping the jacket on the desk before quickly leaving, knowing better than to test Hongjoong when he’s this angry. As soon as Wooyoung is out the door, Hongjoong unclasps his hands, ignoring the stinging pain from the red half-crescents that are decorating the backs of his hands.

The pale blue denim jacket is mangled, scraped, torn, and stained. Hongjoong’s frown deepens as he splays the wet jacket out on the desk, fingers shaking as they trail along the damage. It wasn’t an expensive gift, but they’d only debuted six months previously and Hongjoong had felt faint as the sale approved off his credit card. But it had been worth it to see the smile on Seonghwa’s face; he loved this jacket.

Now it was ruined.

Quietly, he folds up the jacket and pushes himself up, leaving the room and going to his and Seonghwa’s room, appearing that they've just got him settled in to bed. Yunho and Mingi look up, faces coloured with concern and confusion. “Hyung, about Wooyoung, he didn’t--”

Hongjoong holds up a hand to stop Yunho’s defence. “We’ll talk about this in the morning; the company is going to want to talk to all of you, so write down what you remember right now before you go to sleep.”

“Okay… but don’t be too hard on Wooyoung, he really was looking after Seonghwa; he was the most scared out of all of us,” Yunho says quietly, nodding as he leaves the room with Mingi.

He waits until the door closes before he puts away the mangled jacket into a protective garment bag on his side of the room. His hands are still shaking as he makes his way over to Seonghwa, who has been cleaned up and changed into a pair of soft pyjamas that are dotted with the BT21 character Cooky. The soft pink flowers and bunnies that line the pyjama set make Seonghwa look soft and sweet, his mouth parted gently as he breathes, and Hongjoong’s heart clenches in its cage.

He looks beautiful.

He _is_ beautiful, inside and out.

Hongjoong swallows tightly and kneels down at the side of the bed, reaching out with a trembling hand to brush Seonghwa’s gunmetal grey hair out of his eyes. Unable to help himself, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to the eldest’s forehead, taking his hand in his and squeezing it.

“I’m not leaving your side ever again, Hwa,” he whispers. “I don’t care what’s going on between you and Wooyoung, I’m not leaving you.”

_I love you too much._

~*~

With great effort, Seonghwa peels his eyes open and a second later, his brain begins to pound and reverberate inside his skull like a bell clapper.

He attempts to sit up, groans and collapses back onto a pillow, like something’s pushing him back down. It sounds like the other members have set up camp and are performing their own pots and pans big band extravaganza. It takes him a moment to register that he’s inside his room, in his bed, and hungover.

Undeniably, extraordinarily and miserably hungover.

Seonghwa whines because everything hurts so much. He can’t remember what happened and when he tries to think, the pots and pans orchestra just bangs louder.

“Urrrgghhhhhh, no, stop it,” Seonghwa moans, battling blindly at whoever keeps banging on those goddamn pots!

“Seonghwa, _shh_ ,” a voice says, then someone’s stroking his forehead and cheek lightly. Oh, that’s kind of nice. That helps.

“What- _ngh_.”

“ _Shhh._ You’re safe, you’re okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

Unwilling to move, Seonghwa stills, letting the lovely strokes flow over him for a while. He can’t close his eyes, because when he does, it feels like he’s in a whirlpool, so he keeps them open as best he can, staring up to the ceiling. The person with him is humming a charming little tune that’s helping ground him. Wait, is that… _Aurora_?

_**You’re** the Aurora, Park Seonghwa! He’s been writing about **you**!_

“Woo?” Seonghwa mumbles out, and the hand on his cheek freezes for half a second before continuing its rhythm.

“It’s Hongjoong.”

“Joong?!” Seonghwa’s heart does a handspring double front tuck with a half twist. He sits up, forcing his eyes open and makes out Hongjoong, really there, sitting on a chair next to him, looking down with a tight, relieved smile. He seems extremely tired. “Joong, I-”

Seonghwa feels suddenly overcome with emotion… and something else. He shouldn’t have sat up that fast.

He reaches out to grip Hongjoong’s knee, lurching forward as whatever was left in his stomach from the night before executes its grand escape plan. Hongjoong starts, grabbing a plastic bucket next to the bed and holds it under Seonghwa’s head while doing his best to hold back his hair with the other. It doesn’t smell as bad as he expects, most of it liquid and bile.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Hongjoong just says, strained like it’s more for himself right now than anyone else. Seonghwa’s head hangs limp off the side of the bed with a groan and Hongjoong helps him back up onto it, wiping his bangs with a bit of tissue. “Sorry, didn’t get all of it in time.”

“It’s fine,” Seonghwa says, voice rasping through his red hot throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Hongjoong passes him a bottle of water with a tight smile.

Seonghwa nods a thanks and unscrews the cap to tip the cold fluid down his throat. “I feel like shit.”

Hongjoong chuckles, but it sounds humourless. “You _scared_ the shit out of us, Seonghwa…” Then, quieter, “- mostly me.”

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa rubs his forehead but his palm is unusually hot and it doesn’t alleviate much. “I don’t remember anything.”

“It was our off-day. You went to dinner and a club with Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang. You came home blackout drunk.”

Seonghwa cringes, peering out one eye as Hongjoong explains in such a way that sounds like he’s talking about someone else. He scrunches up his face groaning once, then again, a new appreciation for the sheer stupidity of it now sober. It starts to come back to him in patches. The fried chicken. The vodka shots. Dancing to _WONDERLAND_. The foam party. He feels nauseous, thinking another round of vomit is upon him, but it subsides and he relaxes back into the bed.

“The comeback,” Seonghwa realises, placing the hand over his eyes. “Oh my god, Hongjoong.”

“We’ll get through it, Seongh-”

“I literally said ‘ _comeback comes first_ ’, Joong.”

Hongjoong flinches a little. “I know that, but what’s done is done. We just need to focus on getting over the finish line now.”

Seonghwa flops his elbow over his eyes and grits his teeth, so unbelievably furious at himself. What the hell prompted him to get that drunk? He’s always been a responsible drinker. He’s usually looking after _others_ who are getting blackout drunk. _Why can’t I remember, why can’t I remember?!_

“Hey, Seonghwa, it’s okay,” Hongjoong reaches out to take his hand, and Seonghwa stares down at it more shocked than he feel he should be. “I need you to rest right now, not rile yourself up.”

Seonghwa keeps looking at his hand in Hongjoong’s, then squeezes it a little tighter. “How are Wooyoung and the others? They’re not...”

Hongjoong visibly swallows. “Th-They’re fine. They were pretty shaken up. Wooyoung says he found you head first in a toilet bowl.”

Seonghwa’s eyes grow impossibly wide. _What the fuck?_ Fear shoots through his spine, “Dispatch?!”

“Nothing yet,” Hongjoong shakes his head, hand now trembling in Seonghwa’s grip. “Manager Sunghyon says we might get lucky; they chose _Suds_ because of it’s low lighting. He’s… going to want to talk to you tomorrow.”

Seonghwa nods seriously, sitting up a little, already thinking about appropriate punishments he can offer to the company. He’ll be grounded, no question. Cellphone access… and a pay cut on the comeback. If he does his time, it will work better for everyone, and it’s not like he’s going to feel the desire to leave the dorms for the next year anyway.

Wooyoung found him face down in a _public toilet_.

_That’s… so embarrassing._

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make things easier for you from now on,” Seonghwa says formally, bowing his head and Hongjoong catches him under the chin, cupping it between his thumb and index finger to guide his head back up. The odd, sincere look on his face makes Seonghwa’s breath catch in his throat. They stay like that, quiet, heavy breaths coming in sync.

“I could have lost you, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says, barely above a whisper.

_“Do you not listen to the lyrics of our songs, the ones Hongjoong-hyung writes? They’re about being in love.”_

_“A-Ah, I-”_

Seonghwa pulls away from Hongjoong’s touch, confusion and guilt twisting within him. Hurt flashes across Hongjoong’s face and he drops his hand, using it to tear at the bit of tissue in his lap instead. Seonghwa drops his head in his hands with a long groan. He… He remembers the restaurant and Wooyoung asking him the strangest questions. Like, if someone can love more than two people, and what his sexuality is, and…

_“Do you love Hongjoong-hyung?”_

That was it. That was why he ended up face down in a toilet. He remembers Wooyoung’s bizarre reaction to his answer. That he had been convinced Seonghwa and Hongjoong were a couple, and that maybe they’d been keeping the relationship a secret. That… that ATEEZ song lyrics were about _Seonghwa_.

Seonghwa shudders a breath out and he feels disarmed and humiliated, an old, unwelcome sensation crashing down on him. He’s dizzy and confused and about to fucking lose it, flashes of Wooyoung’s face at the restaurant, twisted in pure disgust at him. Seonghwa’s vision blurs and he reaches out desperately.

“J-Joong, I-... I can’t breathe!” he wheezes out, trying to sip in air but it’s like he’s trying to suck it down through a cocktail straw.

They’ve been through this routine countless times before. It’s been a long time since Seonghwa’s had a panic attack, typically getting them a lot during their first year of debuting, while he struggled to process their burgeoning fame, all the rules and restrictions that came with being an idol and the sudden pressures on his looks, on his body.

_Oh my god, I really am going to die this time._

“You’re not going to die,” Hongjoong soothes, “What you’re feeling is scary, but it’s not dangerous. Breathe with me, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa expels air shakily, keeping his focus on Hongjoong’s mouth and chest that guide him through the long breaths. He reminds himself of Hongjoong’s words, that it’s not dangerous. That he’s not going to die. As they continue to cycle through the breathing pattern, Seonghwa manages to hold more breath in his lungs until he’s calmed down and the attack has passed. Shakily, he tips water from the bottle until it’s gone.

“Thank you, Joong. Again.”

“It’s been a stressful twenty-four hours, it’s okay. I’d probably have a panic attack too.” Hongjoong keeps his gaze trained to the floor, wringing his fingers together.

Seonghwa frowns. “Aren’t you angry at me?”

Hongjoong looks up, a little shocked. “What? No. I just want you to be healthy and safe.”

“I could’ve ruined the comeback, I still might. Mr. Kim has every right to fire me.”

“You know I would never let that happen.”

“And what if I deserve it?” Seonghwa asks, tone even but firm.

“Is that what you want?” Hongjoong cuts back, eyes pleading, voice sounding cracked. Seonghwa stays silent, holding his hard gaze. Eventually, Hongjoong’s shoulders collapse. “This thing with Wooyoung, I-”

“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” Seonghwa doesn’t know why he says it. He regrets it as soon as it’s left his lips. His head pounds in response, causing him to sway and squint.

Hongjoong flinches. “Because it’s like I don’t _know_ who you are anymore. I heard you flirted with bartenders for free drinks? When would you ever-...? I’m _trying_ to understand, Seonghwa, but I-”

Seonghwa gasps loudly when it hits him. His own hand floats just over his mouth, staring into the middle distance. That bartender’s face flashes in his memory. Luring him into the cellar. Giving him the free bottle. Trying to hit on him. Seonghwa crawling back up the stairs on his hands and knees. Barely making it to the bathroom in time to lock himself in and hurl into the toilet bowl. That’s… _That’s_ where Wooyoung found him.

_Oh god. Oh god, no._

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no-_

“Hongjoong, I…I’m _so_ sorry,” Seonghwa says, pressing both hands over each other into his mouth, then uncrossing them to hold his temples, staring down to himself in fear.

Hongjoong is frozen. “Wh-What? Seonghwa, for what?”

“That bartender, he tried-... he…” Seonghwa can’t say it, but he sees the cogs turning in Hongjoong’s eyes, a realisation, followed by anger.

“He touched you?”

“Tried, he got interrupted… I… I had my mask on the whole time… no one saw us. I gave him a fake name.”

“And his name?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t tell me… Oh my god, Joong, what have I done? How could I be so _stupid?!_ ”

Hongjoong sits forward in the chair, placing his hand on the bed and looking to Seonghwa seriously. “You’re not stupid. He took advantage of you. He probably preys on young attractive guys all the time. We need to be better at looking out for each other while we’re out.”

Seonghwa wrings his hands by his chest, shoulders rising with heavy breaths. “Hongjoong, I’ll take any punishment from the company, but, _please_ , whatever you do, don’t tell them about this. No one can know.”

“I swear to you, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa stares at him, his own mouth parted, teeth exposed, then nods. “Okay… okay.” He brings his knees up to hug hard, dropping his head between his legs. “For what it’s worth,” he says quietly, “I don’t know who I am lately either.”

*

Seonghwa is given the entirety of the next day to recover while the rest of the members have to spend all day at the studio for comeback preparations. Their new MV will drop in seven days and Seonghwa needs to be back on his feet as soon as possible so he doesn’t fall behind the rest.

Mr. Kim and Manager Sunghyon arrive early in the morning to deal out the punishment. Seonghwa manages to convince them that the blame is entirely on himself, and that Yunho, Yeosang and Wooyoung do not deserve any repercussions for the circumstances of the night before. Additionally, he negotiates a more severe sentence on himself, with the complete removal of his personal cellphone, rather than just social media, and stripped of payment from two comebacks, not one. That in addition to being on house arrest for three months and completing ethics and behavioral classes until the company is sure they can trust him again. Mr. Kim seems satisfied with Seonghwa’s seriousness and willingness to atone for his violations, and the meeting ends surprisingly wholesomely when Mr. Kim gifts Seonghwa with a container of ginger chicken jook, his wife’s recipe.

Seonghwa hands over his cellphone and bows as deeply as he can while still in his bed, apologising and thanking them both as they leave.

He spends the rest of the morning sucking down electrolyte drinks, sleeping, and struggling with cellphone withdrawals. No Sunmi MV, no ASMR and no baby videos at his immediate disposal? It was going to be a long three months.

By about 1pm, he’s just sat down on the couch with his steaming bowl of jook and tapping on the remote, searching through the tv harddrive for their recent practice tapes for _Fireworks (I’m the One)_ when the lock of the dorm beeps and unlocks. Seonghwa looks over his shoulder, eyes widening when he sees Wooyoung emerge, who freezes when their eyes lock together.

“Woo?!”

“Hwa-hyung!” Wooyoung wails, running over and crashing into Seonghwa over the couch nearly sending Mrs. Kim’s jook flying everywhere.

“Youngie! What are you doing here?!” Seonghwa says, managing to place the bowl down on the coffee table to pull Wooyoung over the back of the couch and into his arms to press kisses all over his face.

“Seonghwa-hyung, Seonghwa-hyung, Seonghwa-hyung!” Wooyoung moans into his chest, clinging onto him in such a way it causes Seonghwa to recall a powerful memory of their first night together. “Seonghwa-hyung! Hyung, I thought you were _dead_.”

Seonghwa feels immediately guilty, imagining what it must have been like for poor Wooyoung to find him in the state he was in. He holds Wooyoung more tightly, “Oh, my baby, I’m so sorry I scared you like that.”

They stay like that for a short while, heaving breaths coming into sync, feeling their heartbeats pound against each other with Wooyoung’s wet face pressed deep into Seonghwa’s neck, who hums gently, rocking them back and forth. Eventually, Wooyoung raises his head up, wiping his hand under his nose and sniffing hard.

“I don’t have much time,” he says.

“How did you manage it?” Seonghwa asks, in awe.

“I told them I forgot my comeback boots,” Wooyoung explains, “I had them here to practice with and break in.”

Seonghwa’s face settles into a smirk, “Did you actually?”

“Yeah.”

“Was it a coincidence?”

“No.” Wooyoung’s mouth flattens into a brash smile, cheeks rising and rounding, clearly pleased with himself. Seonghwa is pleased with him too, pulling him down into a kiss.

“Clever, aren’t you?” Seonghwa breathes against his lips and Wooyoung shivers with delight at the praise. They push up into a seated position, fingers clasped tightly together, like Wooyoung might lose him if he lets go.

“What do you need to know?” Wooyoung asks, and Seonghwa adores his brilliant mind.

Seonghwa nods, shifting and settling into a serious expression. “Tell me your version of events from when we got to the club to getting back here, I’m having a hard time putting everything together.”

“Okay,” Wooyoung bites his lip in thought. “Um… You seemed a bit out of it by the end of our dinner, and when we got to the club, you were doing shots, speaking with that creepy bartender. Then… then we danced, and you went out of it again for like a whole song, and then we danced to WONDERLAND, and then the first foam surge… then, you wanted to get a drink a-and I tried to stop you, and then you said you were going to the bathroom and would meet me on the couches, so… I went back and danced some more with Yunho and Yeosang. Then, we all waited by the couches and had some water, then the other two went back in because there was going to be another surge… I was worried because it had been a really long time at that point… so, I texted you and waited a little longer, then I got the others and we split up to look for you. I couldn’t find you on the dance floors, and... it was only by chance that I checked that bathroom… Oh god, what if I hadn’t -” Wooyoung presses his head onto the back of his clasped hands with a whine, and Seonghwa immediately sinks his face against Wooyoung’s neck to try and settle him, unable to do much else with their hands as they are.

“This sounds really traumatic, Woo,” Seonghwa whispers, “I’m so sorry.”

Wooyoung’s breath hitches with a small sob. “A-And a security guard broke open the stall door. You were passed out over the bowl, completely limp. I only found you because I was crawling to look under the stalls, I shook your leg and it was… you were completely slack, a-anyway, um… Th-That’s when I sent the message into the group chat accidentally… Th-Then you were taken to first aid and you started coming too, but you were slipping in and out of consciousness and they made you drink water and take pills and we went home.”

“What do you mean group chat accidentally?”

“The messages? You didn’t see?”

“Mr. Kim and Manager Sunghyon confiscated my cellphone, it’s one of my punishments.”

“Oh,” Wooyoung’s shoulders collapse. “Well, I meant to send your location into the Refund Sisters one and it accidentally went to the band group chat. I completely freaked Hongjoong-hyung the fuck out.”

Seonghwa pulls back, finding Wooyoung’s eyes. “What happened when you got home? What did Hongjoong do?”

“He-... He, um... “ Wooyoung’s gaze suddenly can’t stay fixed on Seonghwa, instead finding a patch of couch that is apparently more interesting. “He was just concerned and freaked out… he told us all to go straight to bed.”

“Did he talk to you at all?”

“He may have spoken to us… I-I can’t really remember.”

Seonghwa unclasps their fingers to hold gently under Wooyoung’s chin, encouraging their eyes together, but he’s still being awkward; won’t meet him. “Wooyoung… did he single you out?”

Wooyoung just swallows, not saying anything and Seonghwa feels a lick of anger in his gut. It’s more of an answer than Wooyoung probably realises.

“H-He just sent us to bed,” Wooyoung murmurs sadly, contradicting his earlier statement. “I’m so glad you’re okay…”

“He should have let you check on me,” Seonghwa says, drawing Wooyoung in closer with his arm, breathing in his lovely scent, shampoo mixing with the sweet musk from the day’s practice. Wooyoung wraps around him tighter, exhaling cathartically. Their time is likely nearly up, if not gone over. How long does it take someone to grab a pair of shoes, anyway? “But I’m very glad you were able to sneak out to see me. I’ll be thinking of you, Wooyoung. Let’s both work hard for ATINY, and each other, okay?”

Wooyoung looks up and nods, “I’ll be thinking of you too.” On his features, an earnest expression that is so breathtakingly handsome to Seonghwa. 

~*~

To say that KQ is pissed is an understatement.

Hongjoong is sitting ramrod still as Mr. Kim, the CEO and President, alongside Manager Sunghyon, various representatives from the company, their content directors, security, media managers and social media managers are all sitting on one side of the table, while Hongjoong sits alone on the other side. There is one bottle of water and a small cluster of full, sealed ones beside him but he doesn’t dare touch them.

He keeps his hands pressed firmly to his lap and his head bowed as Mr. Kim continues to fly between unbridled rage, intense embarrassment and high key stressed the fuck out. Hongjoong knew it would be bad, but this is so much worse than he imagined. There’s no way that they’re going to be able to do anything they want that’s remotely personal for the next ten years given how upset Mr. Kim and Manager Sunghyon are.

“We’ve spoken with Seonghwa and he is going to be stripped of any payment for this comeback and the next,” Mr. Kim is saying, causing Hongjoong’s head to snap up. “He will be grounded for the next three months, and will be only allowed to the studio, the dormitory, and company activities. His personal cellphone will be confiscated and he will have to complete ethics and behavioural classes until we can trust him again. It would’ve been worse, I had half a mind to fire him, but Seonghwa suggested many of the punishments himself, and I appreciate his cooperation.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened. “Mr. Kim,” he starts, knowing he has to act fast but also be extremely polite; they’re on thin fucking ice. “It’s my fault. I didn’t properly check in with Seonghwa or the others, I didn’t ensure that they were properly taken care of with security and with Manager Sunghyon. If anybody needs to be punished for this, it’s me. Seonghwa… -- I agree on the grounding and that he should take responsibility, but the rest … sir, no one works harder to keep ATEEZ together and stable than Seonghwa. If you do this, it’s going to destroy group morale and we’re not going to be able to be what you need us to be on interviews and appearances.”

“Are you offering yourself as a trade?” Manager Sunghyon asks with a raised brow.

“Yes,” Hongjoong says without hesitation. “I’ll take the brunt of the punishment, it’s my failure as leader that this happened. Please, reconsider punishing Seonghwa that severely. I will take the rest.”

Mr. Kim looks to Sunghyon. “We can’t strip him of everything, there are protections in the contract for his production work.”

“The rest is doable to be transferred to Hongjoong,” Sunghyon points out. “And it is the responsibility of the leader when the band fails like this. That is why there is a leader. He didn’t do his job and this happened.”

Hongjoong flinches, but he stays still.

Mr. Kim seems to think about this for a long moment and Hongjoong can feel his heart beat wildly out of his chest. He has to do this; he has to protect Seonghwa, he has to protect the others. It’s his fault this happened, it’s his fault that Seonghwa got hurt, that he felt he had to drink himself stupid to forget about Hongjoong and this whole situation.

Whatever comes, he can take it.

He has to.

For Seonghwa.

For all of them.

Taking the punishment’s all he’s good for.

“Very well,” Mr. Kim says finally. “It is the responsibility of the Leader to take care of the group and you failed in this regard. You will be punished appropriately for the same length of time. Your movements will be severely restricted and you will have more security personnel keeping track of you. You are not allowed to go out of the dorm or the studio without being with someone from the company, even if it is with the group. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, then I suppose you’d better return this to Seonghwa,” Sunghyon says, rummaging around in his briefcase and revealing a cellphone. He holds it out to Hongjoong, who takes it, bowing deeply.

Stepping back, he catches the lock screen of Seonghwa’s phone turning on from the jostling around and his stomach twists despairingly, seeing a gorgeous picture of Wooyoung flash on the screen under the time and multiple notifications.

“You can leave now, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong starts, shoving the phone in his pocket and nodding with another deeply apologetic bow, removing himself from the meeting room as quickly as possible.

*

Hongjoong suddenly slams his hands down on the table, startling the hell out of the group. They’re all sitting at the table, having a meeting about the upcoming schedule once the MV drops and the album goes live on the first of March. “I didn’t send _Time of Love_ to EDEN!” His eyes go wide and he looks pale, dropping his head into his hands. “I got the call from Manager Sunghyon about the Club and we had to come back, and--”

He’s breathing erratically, the panic beginning to set in, his vision beginning to double. How could he forget to send the song to EDEN? That was their deadline to get everything in… now the album’s not going to come out, and he’s just fucked up their entire comeback! The company’s going to blackball him, they’re already pissed at him, they’ll disband the group, everybody’s hard work just went down the fucking drain because Hongjoong’s a dumb piece of shit who can’t keep anything straight --

Suddenly, he feels someone take his hand and squeeze it. He turns, expecting to see Seonghwa, but instead sees San. “Hyung, I sent it,” he says.

“...Sent what?” Hongjoong can feel the bile rise up in his throat, the tell-tale signs that he’s either about to hurl or faint or both.

San squeezes his hand again, grounding him. “Before we left the studio to come back to the dorms...” he starts, speaking slowly and carefully, “I ran to your computer and sent the file to EDEN and cc’d your KQ email. He has it, and it’s been sent off to everybody. I think Manager Sunghyon said it got sent off to all the online distributors no problem. I mean, the physical copies are still kind of fucked but that’s not our fault.”

It takes a long moment for San’s words to process and he collapses against the table, gripping his hair. “Oh god,” he breathes, trembling. He raises his head and looks at San, his expression equal parts relieved and terrified. “Thank you. Sannie, thank you.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” San assures, squeezing his hand. “8 makes 1 team, remember?”

Seonghwa is across the table, eyes planted firmly down, not moving. He’s separated from Wooyoung for the first time in weeks, who’s a few seats over staring at the unfolding situation with concern. The others… The others -

“Y-Yeah…” Hongjoong’s head is spinning, and he puts a hand to his head to stave off the wave of lightheadedness that suddenly has him reeling. “8… 8 makes 1 team,” he repeats, leaning back heavily in his seat.

San shares an anxious look with the others. “Maybe you should take a quick nap, hyung. We can handle the rest of the meeting, it’s just schedule stuff and I know it well enough to explain it to everybody.”

It’s at that time that Hongjoong’s work phone pings - it’s a message from the company president: he wants to talk to Hongjoong and Manager Sunghyon. Now.

“I … I need to go,” Hongjoong says woodenly, pushing himself up. “Mr. Kim wants to talk to Manager Sunghyon and I again… probably about the plan for our schedules. I’ll update everyone on what’s going on but it’s probably going to be a lot more restrictive and we’re going to be babysat a lot more. Please don’t go anywhere out of the dorms right now, unless it’s urgent. Please send me and Manager Sunghyon the details and take at least two security personnel with you, even if it’s to the convenience store. Thank you, guys.” He bows, and grabs his phone, fumbling with it as he heads off followed closely by a staff member and two security members, leaving behind the food he was supposed to eat.

It’s fine.

Food’s for closers, and he nearly fucked this whole thing right up.

He’ll eat later.

Probably.

*

“Hyung, are you sure about this?” San asks for what feels like the hundredth time as they finish their stretching and warm-ups. San is dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt, letting his tattoo breathe, his bicep glistens with rubbed-in _Polysporin_ , and he flexes his arm a bit to test the movement. “We already went pretty hard today.”

Hongjoong shakes his head and slowly pushes himself to his feet – quickly correcting his stance as he sways a bit. He’s in baggy sweatpants and a loose t-shirt that feels too heavy despite being the thinnest one he owns. “I’m a shit dancer,” he explains, “I can’t be fucking up the _Fireworks_ choreo when we have like six things to film for _Studio Choom_.”

It’s not a secret that Hongjoong takes a bit longer to get the choreography; when he was a trainee, the company wasn’t shy about telling him that he was below average in every training aspect: he couldn’t dance, he couldn’t rap, and he could barely sing. But what he lacked in those areas, he made up for in drive and determination; Hongjoong would sacrifice his sleep for practice, burning the midnight oil until he was as good as the others. He can clearly remember when he and Mingi would sneak out of the dorms and go to music clubs in Itaewon to work on their flow, a trial by fire before their debut.

“Okay,” Yunho finally confirms, nodding, somehow managing to comfortably practice in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt/blazer combo. “Let’s run through the whole song one time, then we’ll work on your transitions.” He looks over at San. “Ready?”

“Let’s get it,” San confirms. He pauses, though, and leans in to Yunho. “He’s not going to make it through the rest of this practice, Yunie-hyung. Keep a close eye on him; he’s not listening to me or anybody right now. He might listen to you, though.”

“I can hear you,” Hongjoong mutters as he struggles to right himself again; it feels like his feet are filled with jelly, and someone’s swinging Mjolnir against his head to the tune of _BIG BANG’s_ ‘Fantastic Baby’.

It wasn’t that he wanted to be doing cram course choreo this late at night, but he had no choice. The fallout from Wooyoung and Seonghwa’s night out on the town at _Suds Seoul_ had been a punch in the gut with the realization and discovery that Wooyoung had not only taken Seonghwa out on a date - it meant that Seonghwa _agreed to go on a date with Wooyoung_. Hongjoong’s stomach clenched and twisted as his heart threw itself against its cage in his chest.

_“Seonghwa, let’s go out for dinner. To your favourite restaurant. My treat.”_

_“Oh! That sounds wonderful. Let me get the others.”_

_“No, just the two of us.”_

_“Mm… it’s not right if we don’t go without the others.”_

_“… All right.”_

_“Hwa, let’s go out dancing.”_

_“Ah, but we have schedules the next morning… we should be responsible.”_

_“… Sure, you got it.”_

He always said no when Hongjoong tried to ask him out.

He said yes to Wooyoung.

He’d even put Wooyoung on his fucking lock screen.

He reaches up and grips his shirt right over the still-healing tattoo of Seonghwa’s ASMR headphones, the itchy sensation from the skin healing over seeping through his skin and into his soul. All he wanted was to be in his own bed, wrapped up in a blanket with Seonghwa as he showed the older man cute videos of babies, knowing how much Seonghwa loved to watch them. He’d spend hours finding the best ones.

But Seonghwa went on a date with Wooyoung.

Seonghwa got blackout drunk.

What was going on with him?

… why did it feel that he was drifting further and further away from Hongjoong?

He hears a rough clearing of the throat and looks over at his babysitters, two members of their security team and Manager Sunghyon’s right hand man, Jinkyu. They’ve been given a short amount of time before Hongjoong has to be back at the dorms; his curfew is short, and his leash even shorter. They’re watching him with unimpressed looks, and Hongjoong feels a rush of shame at having to keep not only the two security personnel and Jinkyu, but Yunho and San this long… but that was the deal he made.

And he’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant that Seonghwa could get the time he needed to recover.

“Yeah, of course,” he hears Yunho agree. San nods back and hurries to start the music, slipping the remote into his pocket as _Fireworks (I’m the One)_ begins to blare over the practice room speakers.

It’s obvious from the jump that Hongjoong is half a beat off, and his movements are only getting worse the more times they run through the choreography. It doesn’t help that the _Fireworks_ choreography is the most intense they’ve done yet, perhaps up there with _HALA HALA_. When the company hesitated, Hongjoong pushed for the harder choreography, convincing them the group was ready, they were hungry for it, they had been chomping at the bit for this. He wouldn't have dreamed that everything would very nearly collapse days before the comeback, who could? They take breaks, but Hongjoong is getting frustrated with himself and when he gets frustrated with himself, he pushes himself harder and further than he can take.

“Okay, let’s take a break and get something to eat,” Yunho says. “San—”

San is at the door, taking a couple of takeaway bags from a staff member with a bow. “Already done!”

“Jeez… how are you so on the ball all of a sudden?” Yunho asks as San brings over the food and sports drinks.

“I’ve been helping hyung out a lot more now so I’ve picked up on the rhythm of things,” San explains as he presses a bottle of Gatorade into Hongjoong’s hands. “Come on, Hongjoong-hyung, you’ve gotta eat something.”

“Yeah…” He looks up at San and feels the guilt swell up in his gut again; San’s been doing his damnedest to move on from Wooyoung, and help babysit Hongjoong’s dumb ass at the same time.

Without complaint and without anyone asking, San had begun helping Hongjoong with group admin tasks, like keeping tabs on certain things, or being an intermediary between the group and the company’s staff. He’d even been running interference with Manager Sunghyon, smoothing things over while Hongjoong was in the meetings from hell. San’s goodwill with the managers hasn't totally evaporated yet, somehow, and Hongjoong is beginning to realize it’s because he puts in all the emotional labour behind the scenes to offset the shit he gets into with Wooyoung.

He wishes Seonghwa was here.

… but it isn’t so bad that San is here. His presence is a soothing balm on the gaping wound that’s Hongjoong’s heart.

He should do something for San in thanks when this is all over.

The food San ordered is something healthy and bland, and Hongjoong tries to force himself to eat, but can only manage half of the portion. San smiles and squeezes his shoulder before packing up the rest of Hongjoong’s food to take back to the dorms. He tries to get Hongjoong to drink some _Pocari Sweat_ as well, but Hongjoong waves it off.

“We have to keep going. We only have another hour before we have to get back,” he says, blinking away the doubling in his vision. He can feel a strange wash of coldness course through him and a weird clarity, rooted to his spot on the ground.

Fuck.

“Hyung!”

The next thing Hongjoong knows, he’s flat on his back on the studio floor, feeling like he’d been thrown into a dryer at full speed. The room tumbles and spins, and his eyes struggle to focus and he thinks he can see San and Yunho hovering over him. Someone’s holding him and as the room slowly stops spinning, and Hongjoong groans in confusion. “W…Wha…?”

“Hyung!” Yunho exclaims, tightening his grip on the rapper. “Sannie, he’s back!”

San turns quickly, his cellphone pressed tight to his ear. “Manager Sunghyon! He’s okay. Yeah, we’re bringing him back now… no, he’s not going to be able to do anything for a while. I know he’s still taking the brunt of… yeah, it’s too much. I think the point’s been made, you know? If the company keeps pushing Hongjoong-hyung like this, Seonghwa-hyung too, ATINY is going to notice and there's going to be backlash; the international fans especially will make a lot of noise. -- Yunho-hyung and I are bringing him back right now. – the car’s already here? Okay, great. Thank you, Manager Sunghyon.” Quickly, San ends the call and shoves the phone in his pocket, brushing a hand over Hongjoong’s clammy forehead. “Hyung, speak to me.”

“Sannie?” Hongjoong’s mouth feels like it’s full of mothballs, like his brain is beginning to work but the rest of him refuses to. “What…?”

Yunho looks down at him with a terrified look on his face that he’s desperately trying to school into one of composure. “You fainted,” he says. “It was the freakiest thing, hyung. You just … went still and your jaw clenched so tight I thought I heard your teeth shatter. Then you just went limp and fell to the ground.”

“…fainted?”

San clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “He’s not going to remember any of this, we gotta get him downstairs. Where’s his jacket…” San hurries off, bringing back Hongjoong’s back and jacket, helping Yunho put it on and zip it up. “Can you carry him? I’ll get the doors.”

“Yeah,” Yunho confirms.

Hongjoong feels like he’s about to hurl, but presses close against Yunho’s broad chest as he’s taken out of the practice studio and to the waiting car at the bottom of the KQ building. San and Yunho stick to him like glue, making sure he’s cooled down and hydrated. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice broken and tilted, “I should be stronger…”

If he was stronger, if he was better, this wouldn’t be happening. Maybe he would’ve been able to get Seonghwa to understand how in love with him he’s been for the last five years.

But he hasn’t.

Seonghwa loves Wooyoung, not him.

He’s a failure as a Leader, as a performer, as a person.

Who _would_ love him?

“You’re the strongest person we know,” Yunho says quietly.

He doesn’t believe Yunho.

It’s a blur from there, as Hongjoong feels himself be lifted out of the car and into the dorms, vaguely aware of the flurry of activity that stems from his stupid mistake. San is directing traffic and speaking with a much firmer voice than Hongjoong realized he’s ever spoken with, telling the others they can’t come near him until he’s safe in bed.

Hongjoong is propped up in his bed, with Yunho meticulously creating a nest of sorts so that if Hongjoong slumps over again, he hits something soft. San sits beside him on the bed, making him drink the rest of the _Pocari Sweat_ , saying something about electrolytes. “Manager Sunghyon is speaking with the company,” San explains gently as Yunho places a cool cloth on Hongjoong’s forehead. “You’re on strict bed rest for the next two days. The doctor’s gonna come by tomorrow.”

“…I’m sorry.”

He flinches when San flicks his forehead none-too-gently. “You should be,” San mutters. “You don’t need to run yourself into the ground as some sort of penance for not loving Seonghwa-hyung enough or not being a good enough leader, all of that being such _horseshit by the way_ , hyung. You’re amazing and you work so, so hard for us. You’re the best, and I’m not gonna take anymore of this slander. You stay in bed and get better. We can handle the rest. – Right, Yunho-hyung?”

Startled at being brought into the conversation so suddenly, Yunho nods. “Yeah, Sannie’s right! You just focus on getting better and we’ll handle the rest.”

“But—”

“No buts,” San interjects, pointing at him. “You fainted. No buts.” He smiles and presses a kiss to Hongjoong’s temple, a sign of affection before standing up. “I’m gonna talk to the others. Are you okay staying with him? You’re stronger than I am and you can keep him still.”

Yunho laughs and nods. “Yeah, for sure Sannie.”

San straightens out his clothes and is about to turn to the door when Seonghwa walks in, fresh from a shower and dressed in a loose t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. “What’s going on?” the eldest member asks, towelling his hair dry, then his voice becomes strained, “—Hongjoong??” He moves to walk past San to go to Hongjoong’s side, but is stopped by San’s arm shooting out and impeding his progress. “Sannie! Move!”

“You can’t be here right now,” San says lowly, shaking his head.

“What _happened?_ ” Seonghwa demands, his normally deep voice pitching high as it gets overwhelmed with concern. He’s still pushing at San’s arm, but unable to make the younger member move. “Sannie! Please! _Move!_ ”

San shakes his head and remains firm. “Hongjoong-hyung fainted at practice -"

" - Fainted?!"

" - and he’s under strict orders to rest and not be bothered by _anybody_. Can you help with the other members, Seonghwa-hyung? They need you right now. Yunho-hyung and I will stay with Hongjoong-hyung tonight.”

There’s an undercurrent of ‘he can see anybody but _you_ ’ to San’s tone, and Hongjoong’s head snaps up, only to be pressed back into the bed by Yunho, who nods his agreement. Seonghwa hears the warning in San’s tone and something uncharacteristically feral and indignant flashes across the eldest's face for the briefest second, before his eyes widen, hurt and realization settling on his features.

Seonghwa looks to Hongjoong, who is pale and clammy, trying his best not to throw up the _Pocari Sweat_ that Yunho’s trying to get him to keep down. “…Okay,” Seonghwa says finally, speaking to the others but not breaking eye contact with Hongjoong. “You’re staying here with him tonight?”

“Both of us. We’ll take care of him,” San promises. “Thank you for your help, hyung.” He bows deeply, perhaps being more formal than he needs to be in the situation. “I’m sorry for speaking so harshly, but I’m under strict orders too.”

Seonghwa finally looks away to observe San stiffly, then says after a pause, “N-No, it’s … whatever is best for Hongjoong.” He looks over at Hongjoong one last time, something in his eyes that isn’t easily discernible before bowing himself and leaving to curtail the chaos that is the other members processing the fact that Hongjoong _fainted_.

Guilt bubbles up in Hongjoong’s chest and he lurches forward, suddenly caught by Yunho. San’s head snaps over and he’s at Hongjoong’s side in an instant, holding him close. “I’m sorry,” is all Hongjoong whispers before slumping against San, giving up on holding himself together. A pained, silent sob escapes him as he presses his face to San’s chest, fingers tightly gripping the younger member’s shirt. The tears fall, and his body shakes, held together only by Yunho and San’s warm hugs.

Everything hurts so much; he can barely stand it. He thought he could shoulder it all, the comeback, the increased pressure, the fact that the love of his life is in love with someone else, that that person that he wants here more than anything can’t be because Hongjoong just can’t _handle it right now_. He curls in on himself, eventually slipping into sleep from exhaustion in San and Yunho’s arms.

*

The doctor visits him the next morning, and to the surprise of no one, diagnoses Hongjoong with exhaustion and dehydration. He’s to stay in bed all day today and tomorrow, only doing the bare minimum when it comes to appearances; someone else in the band has to do the heavy lifting. It’s decided that San and Yunho will do it, their English being good enough to handle international questions and their personalities bubbly enough to be interesting.

He frowns, rubbing his forehead. He feels fine, but Manager Sunghyon and the staff aren’t budging, making sure he stays put and he feels like he’s been put into dumb baby jail. Well, given the litany of bad decisions he’s made recently, maybe it’s not so surprising. He flops back against his bed, looking at his personal phone – his work phone is off limits, and it’s almost worse because he doesn’t know what’s going on.

As he glances at his personal phone, the temptation rises to text Seonghwa. But he hasn’t texted the other man back in over a week, his courage slipping out of him each time his finger hovers over their message thread. This time is no different as much as Hongjoong’s heart wants him to pick up the phone and call Seonghwa, his brain knows he can’t. He has to protect his heart; it’s already in pieces and with how stupid he’s been lately, he can’t afford more mess-ups.

Hongjoong’s brows furrow together as his personal phone rings with a number he doesn’t recognize. Out of curiosity, he picks up the phone and accepts the call, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, Hongjoong-ssi? This is RM,” comes a deep voice on the other end of the line. Hongjoong chokes out a surprised sound and drops the phone, scrambling to pick it up. Namjoon laughs on the other end, and Hongjoong flushes a dark red. “Are you okay?”

“This is really RM-sunbaenim?!” Fuck, now he was sounding like Wooyoung. “S-Sorry. Hello. How are you doing?”

Namjoon laughs again. “Call me hyung,” he says affably, as if he’s not the leader of the biggest boy band in the world right now. “Jimin told me that you’ve been going through a lot lately; he’s been talking to San a lot – something about a surprise – and asked if I could call you.”

Hongjoong can’t believe his ears. “I’m sorry you’re spending your precious free time calling me, Namjoon-hyung.” He looks down, frowning. “I’m all right.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Namjoon says, surprising Hongjoong into straightening up, despite the fact that the older man isn’t anywhere near him. “I was just where you were, on the precipice of breaking out and all the eyes of the world that are suddenly on you, the centerpiece of a small company that’s being ridiculed by the industry for even trying to break in. It’s on your shoulders to keep the group going, keep the members safe, present a united front to the world, make sure the fans don’t see the cracks, see the fights, or that you’re just a kid in charge of a group of other kids that has to make money. You can’t falter for a second, because if you break, they break and it’s all fucked.”

Namjoon is speaking so frankly and so passionately, that Hongjoong’s head is spinning. “Y-Yeah,” he whispers. “There’s… with this comeback, there’s a lot of interpersonal turmoil and if it was anybody else involved, I would be able to handle but _I’m_ in it, and I can’t…” He drifts off, frowning. Namjoon’s going to think he’s pathetic.

“…because you love someone in the group who doesn’t love you back?”

The question is soft, but pointed. Hongjoong chokes on his spit. “How did—”

Namjoon laughs softly. “This isn’t about me, but I’ve been there. Gone through that exact thing, actually: you can’t act on your feelings because you’re the Leader, but those feelings don’t go away and you’ve gotta shove it down and put on the happy show, do the fan service with the person you’re in love with because the fans love it. They can’t know that it’s not happy, that it tears you apart inside to see them with someone else… you shouldn’t have let it get to that point, but you did… because your heart wants what it wants.”

“Namjoon-hyung,” Hongjoong croaks out. “What do…. What do I do?”

“You’re not going to like my answer.”

“Please don’t say I have to talk to him.”

“You have to talk to him.” Namjoon sighs and Hongjoong can hear something click, like Namjoon is sitting at a desk, closing his laptop. “You need closure one way or another. But… about the work stuff… Hongjoong-ssi, I’ve been watching you for a while now. You’re talented as hell and seeing you rattle off that rap in _THANXX_? Made me want to step up my game. Your members? They love you. They love you so much they don’t know how to show it. Let them. You might have to shoulder the admin bullshit from the company, but you don’t have to shut yourself off away from them… even the member you love so much it hurts. Being near them… is enough, after a while. And who knows, things might even change for the better… this might just be a bump in the road on the journey back to one another.”

“...Namjoon-hyung…Is that what happened for you?”

Namjoon laughs a little bit. “8 Makes 1 team, right? It’s not Hongjoong makes 1 team, or whatever. You guys are in it together and while you’re the one facing the brunt of it, you’ve got them. There’s a reason why you were chosen, why they were chosen. It’s because you belong together. All of you.”

Hongjoong sniffs and wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “Damn, how do you do that? I feel like it’s actually possible now.”

“I’m old as dirt,” Namjoon jokes. “But seriously, there’s hope. Just trust in your team, in your members. Everything else will follow. And to answer your question… yeah, it did end up working out in the end.”

“Thank you. This is… I really needed to hear this.”

“You got it, man. Save my number and if you wanna talk, just shoot me a text. I might not be able to respond all the time, but I’ll read them and respond when I can. Okay?”

Hongjoong chokes. “I couldn’t bother you like that!”

Namjoon snorts. “We leaders need to stick together. I have a group chat with some of the other Leaders I can add you too. We need to have each other’s backs.”

“I think I’m going to faint.”

“Wait until I’m off the call at least,” Namjoon teases. “—Shit. I’ve gotta go; we’re filming _Run! BTS_ today and I have a sneaking suspicion the staff is going to fuck with us. We’re going to a fancy hotel.”

Hongjoong blinks. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“If your staff treated you to a lovely, fancy meal the day before, what would you think?”

“That we’re doing something horrible next.”

“Exactly. – Good luck, Hongjoong-ssi; you’ve got this. I believe in you, and so do your members.”

Hongjoong smiled. “Thank you, Namjoon-hyung. Let’s hope you’re not getting dunked in water or something.”

“…shit, that’s probably what it is. – Okay, see you!” Namjoon hangs up in a hurry. Hongjoong stares at his phone, in disbelief that it just happened.

 _There’s hope_.

“I’m trusting you, Namjoon-hyung,” Hongjoong whispers. He looks down at his phone and grips it.

He has to get his shit together.

First things first, he has to get through this lovesickness. What do normal people do when dealing with heartbreak? Listen to ‘emo’ music, he figures. He remembers the _Linkin Park_ cover he released at the beginning of the year, and a thought occurs to him: he could do something similar here. That had helped him through a particularly rough patch in late 2020, and times were definitely worse now.

Maybe it could work again.

Hongjoong pushes himself off his bed and gets dressed in ‘stage’ clothes, taking the time to do his makeup but in a very particular style, paying homage to Gerard Way from _My Chemical Romance_ , particularly their _Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge_ era. Hongjoong smears some lipstick on his lips and sets up his phone in a stand, angling it so that only his under eyes, mouth and upper torso are visible. He checks the camera one more time before queueing up the music.

He’s never done an off-the-cuff cover before, but there’s a first time for everything. He sends a quick note to Manager Sunghyon to let him know what he’s doing, and goes live.

_Seonghwa laughs, curling up against Hongjoong as they sit on Hongjoong’s bed in their room. Hongjoong’s just surprised the eldest with a Blackpink lightstick, and he’s just hit Seonghwa’s knee, making a loud squeaky toy sound. Seonghwa collapses into a fit of giggles, wrapping his long arms around Hongjoong’s shaking frame._

_Seonghwa’s laugh is his favourite song._

With a small smirk, Hongjoong leans in close to the microphone, beginning to sing along with the song, his eyes focused on the screen as he modifies and plays with the melody on the fly. During a long instrumental break, he freestyles a rap that brings out his inner turmoil, his pain, his despair, the loss of love and not being able to fully lock it away.

“The key is in your hands, open the cage or throw it away, I’ll love you anyway.”

Tears slide down his cheeks as he sings the emotionally charged _Helena_ , throwing himself headlong into emotions he’d tried to suppress for too long.

_“Don’t you… think it’s silly that I like girl groups?”_

_“What? No. I think it’s awesome, Hwa; if you like girl groups, like girl groups. I’ve worn a goddamn skirt because I want to. Fuck what everybody else thinks. -- Hey, AKB48 is playing when we’re in Japan. Wanna go see them?”_

_“Hongjoong…yes!”_

_“Done! Now you have to teach me their songs and the fan chant so I don’t embarrass myself.”_

_Seonghwa’s smile is radiant as he nods. “Of course!”_

His tears mix with the smudged makeup, adding to the aesthetic, and he can hear the relentless pinging of the chat going mental at the image. Carefully, slowly, he brings his hand up to touch the microphone, shifting the high energy beat to something slower, something that hurts just as much and hits just a bit harder.

_“He’s so open and honest about how he feels. I think he’s a good influence on me.”_

_“Is… this what you want, Hwa?”_

_“Mm. I think it’s best for everyone.”_

What’s best for everyone?

He has to stay goodbye to these feelings, these ugly, confusing feelings that are making him act up, that are making him ravenous and desperate. The lovesickness that he’s been infected with the last while, he has to let it go.

It’s not fair to Seonghwa if he’s like this.

So he’ll try to say goodbye to these feelings.

_Seonghwa is looking up at him with those wide, beautiful eyes of his. They’re in their own world, hidden underneath the blankets on Seonghwa’s bed that smell like the sea breeze mixed in with the warm spice of Hongjoong’s cologne and the cool citrus of Seonghwa’s. “What’s gotten into you?” Seonghwa asks, his long fingers sliding along Hongjoong’s jaw._

_Hongjoong wonders if it would be too much to say that he sees the stars every time he looks into Seonghwa’s eyes. That the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen is Seonghwa’s smile? That nothing could ever compare to the way the older man says his name?_

_Instead, Hongjoong smiles back and captures Seonghwa’s lips in a soft kiss, hoping against hope that his feelings come through in it._

_‘I love you,’ his heart whispers._

_But it never seems to reach Seonghwa’s._

Because Seonghwa’s heart belongs to another.

He has to say goodbye to those feelings. He won’t bury them, but he has to say goodbye. For the good of the group, for the good of his mental health, he has to put them to rest.

It’s for the best.

The song ends and Hongjoong can feel heavy, thick, tears slide off his chin to the desk, the saltiness of his tears and the chemical taste of his makeup adding to the strangely cathartic experience. His fingers tremble as they curl around the microphone stand, lightly brushing against the pop filter. His lips curl into a sad smile and he whispers ‘thank you’ before ending the live.

He sits back in his chair and wipes the make-up off his face with a wipe, feeling a weight slide off his shoulders.

 _There’s hope_.

Seonghwa doesn’t love him like that, but that’s okay.

Love isn’t just romantic. _His_ love isn’t that brittle. He’ll always love Seonghwa, and he’ll support him in whatever makes him happy.

Even if … that happiness isn’t with him.

He has to try.

 **Sannie [2:48 pm]  
** Hyung  
I saw your VLIVE  
Are you ok?

 **Hongjoong [3:00 p.m.]  
** I will be

*

When the members come back from practice, Hongjoong is trying to bake a cake. He’s looking from his phone with the recipe to the systematically laid out ingredients that are doled out into bowls, waiting to be used. His hair is pushed back by a hairband, and he’s twirling cooking chopsticks like a drumstick.

“Oh, _store bought_ espresso powder is okay?” he asks sarcastically as he scrolls through some woman’s insanely long diatribe about her family or some shit. “I’m sorry, we don’t all have _homemade_ espresso powder _on hand_ , lady.”

“…Hyung?” comes Jongho’s cautious voice and Hongjoong turns, seeing the entire group standing at the mouth of the kitchen, watching him like he’s a T-REX and they’re trying not to get eaten by making too many sudden moves. “What are you doing?”

Hongjoong blinks back at him. “Making a cake,” he replies blankly, as … well, that’s what he’s doing. “Come on, help me out. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“… _why_ are you making a cake?” Yeosang asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Because we’ve all worked really hard and gone through a lot of shit and deserve to pig out and have a sugar crash,” Hongjoong explains. “Are you going to help your Captain or not?”

Mingi throws his hands up in the air. “That’s all I need to hear; I’m in!” he says, crossing the threshold and enters the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves and grabbing one of the aprons. “Where do you need me, Captain?”

“Gunner Mingi, I need you over here to whisk the batter,” Hongjoong replies, saluting back when Mingi raises his hand to the side of his head. “You are a strong young man, muscles hewn from a life out on the high seas! What about the rest of ye?”

San laughs and grabs the nearest person to him, Jongho, and pulls him in. “Aye, Cap’n! We got our resident fruit splitter here to crack the eggs!” he offers up Jongho, who is trying his damnedest to keep a straight face. “Boatswains Choi Squared reporting for duty!” He turns to the rest of them. “Quartermaster Park, Sailor Masters Kang and Jung, Gunner Jeong! Are you guys in too?”

Mingi holds his whisk and points at them. “Your Captain needs you! Do you heed the call of the Pirate King Kim Hongjoong?!”

Jongho lets out a rare giggle. “Is there a man among ye?!” he demands, falling into San in embarrassment from his awful pirate accent.

Hongjoong smiles at Seonghwa, and holds out his hand to him. “Come on, I need my First Mate and Quartermaster; you know how hard it is to get these layabouts to do anything right around here.”

“Hey!” Yunho exclaims, pouting as he reads the instructions on Hongjoong’s phone. “We’re doing our best.”

The Leader laughs and shakes his head. “I know, and I love you guys.” He looks at Seonghwa. “All of you. Will you help me?” He reaches out and takes Seonghwa’s hand, tugging him along to his side by the oven. “How much do we put the oven on for? I don’t know Fahrenheit.”

Seonghwa is slow to respond, clearly taken aback by Hongjoong’s change in attitude. “Um, here.” He blinks slowly and turns to the oven, turning the pre-heat on.

“Wh – it was that easy?” Hongjoong groans, shaking his head.

Yeosang smirks slightly. “You really need us, don’t you, _Captain Kim?_ ”

Hongjoong nods and looks at everyone, but his gaze finds Seonghwa’s first. “I need all of you.”

~*~

Wooyoung is flopped back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling like it’s going to give him some answers, or a blow job. The dorm is silent, there’s not even enough people around to scrounge up for a Smash Bros. tournament so he can show how superior he is with Roy. He’s pretty sure it’s just him and San, but San still isn’t talking to him, so… he then considers ordering in, but he doesn’t feel like anything.

He is _so_ bored...

The door suddenly slams open and he jolts upright, grabbing the nearest thing - a remote control and slowly makes his way to the front of the dorm. “I… I know Taekwondo!” he yells, hoping it’s threatening.

Two loud peals of laughter - very familiar laughter - sounds from the front door and Wooyoung’s heart leaps in his chest. There, standing just inside the threshold is Changbin and Yeonjun, two of his closest non-ATEEZ friends. He flings the remote somewhere and hurries over, eyes wide and a loud yell of happiness escaping him.

“Binnie! Junie! What are you doing here? I’m kind of in the dog house,” he says in a hushed stage whisper.

“We know,” Yeonjun said with a laugh as he brushes Wooyoung’s bangs out of his face. “Our spider senses were tingling so we snuck out to see you.”

“You _snuck out_?” Wooyoung breathes, eyes wide. “But you’ll get in trouble!”

Changbin snorts. “I’d like to see them try anything with me,” he says, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s go sit. I haven’t seen you in ages and all of a sudden you’re half-assing a blond look? I taught you better than that.” He pauses. “At least your hair isn’t brittle like Yeonjun’s.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, Seo.”

Changbin grins with hooded eyes. “How’s the deep conditioning?”

“I don’t need it! Besides, you don’t have to worry about it when you’re at _moss level_ ,” he snipes, smirking as Changbin bristles at the comment on his height. Yeonjun preens, pleased with himself and holds up two plastic bags, while Changbin holds up another one. “We brought snacks.”

“And non-alcoholic drinks because we’re responsible,” Changbin adds. “This time.”

Wooyoung feels a weight lifted off his shoulders as he brings Changbin and Yeonjun to the dining room table. He hasn’t seen the two of them since MAMA, and even then it was mainly them freezing their asses off in the parking lot and Changbin almost accidentally joining NCT when Taeyong frantically tried to collect all his members. “How have you guys been?”

“We’ve got a lot of appearances and promo stuff… Company’s rebranding,” Yeonjun pauses. “Or part of it is? We’re still BigHit but there’s HYBE? Look. I don’t know. I just show up and we’re talking about pineapple pizza for the promotion clip.”

“What…?”

“We’re gearing up for _Kingdom_ ,” Changbin says, cracking open a coffee drink. “You guys too, right?”

Shit, he’d practically forgotten about the Competition Show _Kingdom,_ with everything that’s been going on. “Y-Yeah, us too,” Wooyoung says, distracted.

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow. “You forgot about _Kingdom_? Woo, what happened? You were so excited to get like 49 boyfriends out of it.”

“I was not!” Wooyoung protests, a blush colouring his cheeks.

Changbin pointed his can of coffee at him and then holds it up high. “You specifically said, and I quote, ‘I’m going to make Sannie so jealous by getting Juyeon and Hyunjin as boyfriends’ and then you upped the goal to everyone. Granted, that may have been the peach soju talking.”

Feeling disarmed, Wooyoung’s face falls, swallowing thickly at the snack bag in his hands.

Yeonjun frowns at that. “Did something happen with San?”

“God, Junie, Binnie, I’ve fucked this whole thing up so badly,” Wooyoung says, fiddling with his little foil bag, failing to get it open.

“I… really doubt that, but come on, spit it out,” Yeonjun says, leaning forward. “San’s head over heels in love with you, how could you mess that up?”

Wooyoung bites his lip. “Um… Because... I think I'm falling in actual love with Seonghwa-hyung, and Hongjoong-hyung thinks that Seonghwa-hyung loves me and only me so _he’s_ self-destructing and San hasn’t spoken to me in _weeks_ because he joked that we’d make Seonghwa-hyung and Hongjoong-hyung jealous by picking one and sleeping with them because they were going through a rut but apparently San _wasn’t_ joking and then it just exploded.”

“...Shit,” Changbin says in disbelief. “That would do it.”

“Oh, _and_ Seonghwa-hyung is convinced he’s not in love with Hongjoong-hyung for some asinine reason even though he _clearly_ is but won’t admit it.”

“You’re living in a drama,” Yeonjun adds, somewhat impressed. “But in all seriousness, have you spoken to San?”

Wooyoung shakes his head. “He won’t talk to me. He’s been spending all his time with Hongjoong-hyung.” He scratches his nose sadly.

Yeonjun shares a look with Changbin. “Uh, look Woo, this is above our paygrade, but you _definitely_ need to talk to San, at least sort this out with _him_. The two of you can figure anything out.”

Wooyoung just groans, sinking into his seat. The snack bag finally gives, ripping dramatically to send snacks flying over the dining table.

“I’m jealous, I wish I was in a love square,” Yeonjun sighs, plonking his head in his hand, unbothered as snacks rain down on his head.

“Just focus on getting Soobin to take your love declarations seriously; one thing at a time, Junnie,” Changbin says as he flicks a lone snack at him. Yeonjun just turns up his nose and sticks his tongue out. Changbin directs his attention back to Wooyoung. “Hey, and if that doesn’t work, there’s always booze.”

“No way, booze made it worse.” Wooyoung shakes his head. “Why do all my friends give me horrible advice?”

“Yeah, _Changbin_ ,” Yeonjun snorts. “This is why your maknae bullies you.” He gets out of his chair and makes his way around to Wooyoung, hugging him tightly. “Hey, let’s have a little fun and forget about all that for a little bit, yeah? Recharge those Wooyoungie batteries and make you the cutest, most irritating brat in the 4th gen!”

Changbin laughs and gets up too, coming around to hug him as well, and Wooyoung is not going to cry. He isn’t. He smiles and snuggles into the group hug and hunches up slightly when they press kisses to the top of his head. Wooyoung opens his eyes and catches sight of movement at the end of the hallway, his heart skipping a beat when he realizes it’s San.

They catch each other’s eyes and if Wooyoung didn’t know any better… he’d say that San was just smiling at him.

Just as quickly as he appeared, the pink-haired man disappeared into his and Yunho’s room, leaving Wooyoung to be snuggled and lavished affection on by his two close friends.

“Oh, I have news,” Wooyoung smiles up to them proudly.

“Hm?” Changbin tilts his head with interest.

Wooyoung smirks happily, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Seonghwa-hyung’s _pansexual_.”

Yeonjun slams his hand down on the table. “Tell me _everything._ ”

*

Wooyoung is _over_ this comeback. It’s always around the two week mark he gets like this. The constant performances, the little injuries, the no sleep, the reality segments… the pressure always mounts and he becomes grumpy and unlikable. A little shadowy fireball that stalks around the dorms that everyone tends to jump out of the way of as he approaches. Regular comeback shit, on top of _Kingdom_ as well… yeah, he’s over it.

One more week of promotion and then they can sleep, at least.

Wooyoung flings the door open to his and Yeosang’s room, and throws himself onto the bottom bunk, fully ready to scream into his pillow in frustration when something sharp and solid pierces into his side. Exclaiming with a whine, Wooyoung rolls over and sees that he’s flung himself onto a gift box, long and rectangular, with a little note card taped to its lid. The box is white, but with an ostentatious BTS patterned bow.

“What the?” Wooyoung frowns; he doesn’t remember ordering anything from Weverse, and it wouldn’t come like this. He pulls at the notecard, wincing when he hears a bit of a tear from the fact it was taped down to the box’s lid. Absently, Wooyoung chews on his lip as he opens the card, his heart dropping when he sees the familiar handwriting.

_Wooyoung,_

_Happy White Day._

_Love,  
_ _Sannie_

He almost gasps at the visceral feeling of a phantom punch to the gut, and he’s gripping the card so tightly he nearly crinkles it. Quickly, he puts the card aside and grabs the box, almost terrified to pull the lid off. Eventually, he yanks it off like a band-aid, finding himself staring at a BTS lightstick, specifically from their 2015 _RED BULLET TOUR_.

Wooyoung had been trying for _years_ , even before he was in ATEEZ, even before he was a trainee to try to find this goddamn light stick. It was rare, and it was extremely difficult to find a real one once BTS exploded on the scene and took the industry by storm. Wooyoung had been on numerous forums, and even when he’d become an idol, tried using his newfound connections to find it but to no avail. He’s definitely complained to San about this, but always thought that the other man was ignoring him; he rants about BTS and Jimin a lot, of course.

_San.._

Wooyoung’s eyes fill with fresh tears and he grips the box, wiping his eyes roughly with his sleeve as he pulls out the lightstick, mint and sealed in the box. His eyes widen further when he sees that Jimin’s signature is on the box, written elegantly in silver sharpie with a heart and a kissy face.

_Wooyoung~!_

_Let’s dance together sometime!_

_~ Jimin <3 _

It was like… a sign. He thinks back to Changbin and Yeonjun’s visit the other week, how they advised he ‘ _definitely needed to talk to San_ ’.

He hasn’t spoken to San, and even still… San did this for him. Even still, when he’s been so rightfully mad at Wooyoung. Wooyoung can’t help but smile sadly. This is San opening the door for him, waiting for him to walk through it.

Wooyoung’s heart has been trying to tell him this the entire time. He needs San. He may love Seonghwa, but he _needs_ San.

San is his port of safe call, when Wooyoung’s been out at sea too long, exploring the world without any hesitation.

San is the beacon that pulls him back down to Earth, who steadies him when he goes off the rails, who will go _off_ those same rails with him and make sure that they always make it back home.

 _Home_ …

_Where no one else found it, my Treasure…_

He needs to talk to San.

~*~

With a soft sigh, Seonghwa grips the handle to Hongjoong and his room and wrenches it open.

It’s been three weeks since the _Suds Seoul_ incident, they’re in the throes of promotion, and at this point, his heart clenches with pain at just the mere thought of their Leader’s name. He barely sees him around outside of work. They sleep in the same room but they’re strangers, and some nights Hongjoong doesn’t come back to the dorms at all. He may as well be a ghost.

Seonghwa braces himself for yet another empty room and while he does find that, there’s also something off about it. His eyebrows knit together as he gazes around the dorm room, forever amazed that Hongjoong and he were able to get two twin beds and not a bunk bed…

_… Joong..._

A frown creases his lips as he absently crosses over to Hongjoong’s bed, sitting down and sinking down, pressing his face into the pillow. Hongjoong’s scent was always comforting – a mix of spices and warmth, but with this burst of freshness that perfectly exemplified _him_. Seonghwa’s chest clenches as his heart bangs against its cage, threatening to burst from his chest as he grips the sheets, a soft, shaky exhale tumbling past his lips.

Suddenly, Seonghwa flings himself up to an upright position and shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. Is he being creepy? He was definitely just being super creepy.

He stands up rigidly, slowly backing away from the bed, then rushes forward to pat out the Seonghwa shaped creases he just left in the duvet and pillow.

Seonghwa hangs his head with a drawn-out grown, rubbing his hands over his face.

_What is wrong with me?_

It’s gotta be the house arrest. He’s starting to go up the walls and he’s barely even done a third of it.

Well… at least Hongjoong managed to get his cellphone back.

_Hongjoong stops him in the hallway, looking as if he’d just been fed to the dogs, and he seems incapable of looking Seonghwa in the eye for a long moment before he’s suddenly shoving something into his hands. “Here.”_

_“My cell? What-” Seonghwa looks down at the device, then back up at Hongjoong. He’d given this to Mr. Kim and Manager Sunghyon … how did Hongjoong get it?_

_Hongjoong rubs his neck, wincing slightly at the movement. He looks up at Seonghwa, expression shifting between tired and professional, and something else that he can’t place. “They were wrong to take your phone, a-and you’ll get paid for this comeback too. There wasn’t much I could do about your grounding, though…”_

_Seonghwa didn’t like how that sounded. That was his ‘I had to do it as Leader’ voice. “Hongjoong… what did you **do**?”_

_“You don’t have to thank me. Let’s get through this comeback, Hwa.” Hongjoong smiles at him, but it seems forced. “8 Makes 1 Team, right?”_

_“R-Right. 8 Makes 1 Team,” Seonghwa blinks, stunned, a sense of dread settling in his -_

… wait, what is that?

There is a large, flat gift box on his bed. The box is white, the lid fashioned with a gorgeous white, silver and gold bow. Seonghwa cautiously steps towards the box, like it might have a live animal inside. On closer inspection, he sees that it’s some kind of garment box, and there is a little note pinned underneath the bow. Carefully, Seonghwa tugs the card out.

_Seonghwa,_

_Happy White day._

_\- Hongjoong_

The card is handwritten, and it’s clear Hongjoong took his time writing the words – it almost looks as if he used a calligraphy pen. The strokes are calm, sure, and written with intent. Seonghwa’s heart sings before shifting into a wail, throwing itself around in confusion and despair.

Hongjoong never liked to celebrate holidays where a certain behaviour was expected of people. He much preferred to give gifts on the spur of the moment, or give the gift of experiences; of memories. Hongjoong never cared about White Day or Valentines Day…

_“But you make chocolates together for Valentines Day every year. Hongjoong always gets you the best, most thoughtful Christmas presents. He literally gave me coal the other year!”_

_“We don’t celebrate those kinds of holidays like that, like... Valentines is just an excuse for me to practice my chocolate tempering and Hongjoong likes to help decorate. And, of course I love Joong; just like I love all the members. It’s just… not that. We’ve never discussed **that**.”_

_“You’re absolutely sure you’re not in love with him?”_

_“H-How do you know if you’re in love?”_

Seonghwa hadn’t remembered much from the _Suds Seoul_ night, but he remembers Wooyoung’s shock and disgust during their conversation from the restaurant clear as can be now. Valentines Day wasn’t a big deal, it was just… at first they bought discounted chocolate and would pig out on February 15th, then Seonghwa wanted to practice chocolate making and Hongjoong offered to help. Making chocolate became a tradition, and one that they kept to just the two of them. Once they tried with the others, but it nearly exploded the kitchen and the staff had to cut in…

It didn’t mean they were _in love._

_“I’m not hearing the snap,” Hongjoong says sarcastically, mimicking the speech pattern of a Canadian Chocolatier he heard on one of the Food Network shows he and Seonghwa were watching to help with the latter’s English practice. He struggles with his floppy piece of chocolate, “that means your chocolate is not in temper.”_

_Seonghwa giggles and holds his attempt at the chocolate to Hongjoong’s ear, snapping it perfectly. “How’s that?”_

_Hongjoong shivers. “Perfect.”_

Swallowing tightly, Seonghwa ignores the sudden trashing of his heart and with the card still in his hand, manages to lift the lid off the box.

A swath of soft gold and white tissue paper greets him, and he sees a cloth garment bag underneath it all. Carefully, Seonghwa slips the card into his pants pocket and opens the garment bag, grunting as he has to shift and pull at it to pull out… the jacket Hongjoong had bought him for his 21st birthday.

But… he lost that jacket at _Suds Seoul_.

Or at least, he thought he had...

Feeling faint, Seonghwa swallows again and looks down at the piece of clothing in his hands. It is undoubtedly the jacket that he thought was lost forever but it’s different now. Better. Adorning it are beautiful, elegant accessories, painstakingly chosen and applied with a high level of skill. Artistically strewn ribbons of fabric spray-paint and unique pieces of jewellery refashioned as buttons, as zipper charms, pull the jacket together, breathing new life into it.

He inspects inside and runs a finger down the lapel where it’s clearly been repaired; sewn back together. Seonghwa clenches his eyes shut, remembering the bartender. Remembering scraping the jacket on the brick wall. Remembering neon vomit splashing across the sleeves as he barely managed to get his head in the bowl in time...

Seonghwa ruined the jacket and Hongjoong fixed it…

_Why?_

He lays the jacket down on his bed, trailing his fingers along the sparkling stones and pins – there’s strawberries, a musical staff, Toothless from _How to Train Your Dragon_ and various pieces of ATEEZ charms from their various Fan Club rewards. Seonghwa even sees that Hongjoong had used some old, broken pieces of Seonghwa’s old necklaces, earrings and rings... even using fabric from a pair of his favourite pants pre-debut that Seonghwa had ripped and hadn’t worked up the courage to throw out yet. Every piece is so well thought out that, although it looks like a mish-mash at first, Seonghwa knows how much time Hongjoong spent planning, sewing and sticking this together.

And all while in the midst of comeback. Where on earth did he find the time?

As he turns the jacket over, his breath stops.

There, centre stage, is a gorgeous street-art style piece of a pair of headphones, hooked into a modified ASMR microphone. The word _MARS_ curls around the headphones, the musical staff hooking into the microphone. Hongjoong’s signature is in the corner underneath the piece of artwork, with a little heart and the pirate flag that’s become synonymous with ATEEZ. The jacket is undoubtedly Seonghwa, but it also has Hongjoong’s stylistic imprint, like a loving touch that cannot be ignored.

A rush of emotions swirl in Seonghwa’s stomach, his eyes watering as he pulls the jacket up and presses it up to his face.

It even _smells_ like Hongjoong.

It smells like home.

Overwhelmed and with no hesitation, Seonghwa pulls on the jacket and grabs his phone, just catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he leaves the room. The jacket jangles as he walks, feeling the loose pieces of fabric catching the air in movement. It makes him feel a little ethereal, like he’s Pirate King Kim Hongjoong’s First Mate and Quartermaster, leaning over the siding to feel the sea air in his bangs as they sail into uncharted waters.

If anyone sees him, he doesn’t notice; single-minded on his mission to the rooftop. He props up the metal ladder, carefully climbing it to swing his legs over the edge and crawl to sit cross-legged around where Hongjoong and him last spoke, that time when Seonghwa told him about his arrangement with Wooyoung and himself.

That… somehow feels like a lifetime ago.

Determinedly, Seonghwa pulls out his phone and opens VLIVE, muscle memory tapping into ATEEZ’s profile. There was Hongjoong’s emotional off the cuff live that everyone had been talking about, but Seonghwa still hadn’t watched it.

He didn’t know why, but he just… _couldn’t_.

Swallowing nervously, he taps the thumbnail and turns his phone sideways to watch. Screen Hongjoong appears, only visible from his chest to his under eyes that are smudged with kohl. Seonghwa bites his lip, staring hard as Hongjoong smirks and begins to sing. All of Hongjoong’s covers were beautiful and emotional, but this was… different; something else was going on. Seonghwa’s heart starts to race, an uncanny feeling in his chest.

He feels exposed, but he doesn’t know why.

In classic Hongjoong style, he freestyle raps during the long instrumental break and Seonghwa is once again impressed by his fast thinking mind and intuition. Seonghwa’s heard hundreds of these raps before, but this one… it was as if Hongjoong had cut open his chest, allowing his inner turmoil, his pain and despair to bleed out for the world to see.

_“The key is in your hands, open the cage or throw it away, I’ll love you anyway.”_

Seonghwa gasps in horror and presses his hand over his mouth as tears suddenly slip down Hongjoong’s face, taking some of the black makeup around his eyes with it. “What _is_ this, Hongjoong?” Seonghwa whispers, goosebumps cascading over his skin from head to toe.

He’s letting go, Seonghwa knows that much is obvious, but he can’t pinpoint exactly _what_ Hongjoong is letting go of...

The song ends and final, fat tears slip off the edge of Hongjoong’s chin. His fingers visibly shake as they twist around the microphone stand. His lips curl into a sad smile, he whispers ‘thank you’ and the screen goes black before a couple of recommended videos pop up.

Hands shaky, Seonghwa crosses his legs and places the phone in his lap, pulling the jacket around him more to shield from the cold evening air. He gazes out at the Seoul skyline, the sun having slipped below the horizon by now, painting the sky orange and purple, distant points of light turning on like little artificial stars.

“What are you trying to tell us, Hongjoong?” Seonghwa murmurs, hugging himself for warmth.

Then, his phone buzzes one, two, _five_ times. Seonghwa picks it up to see a message from Hongjoong, not in a group chat, but from their private one. Hurriedly, he unlocks into it, eyes scanning the messages desperately.

 **Seonghwa [10:05 p.m. - _3 weeks ago_ ]  
**Hey remember when we first kissed?

 **Seonghwa [10:07 p.m. - _3 weeks ago_ ]  
**What were we fighting about back then?

 **Hongjoong [7:27 p.m.]  
** We were fighting because you said I wasn’t being honest.

As a leader,  
As a friend,  
You told me to show you how I felt.

Demanded it, actually…

So I did.

 **Hongjoong [7:28 p.m.]  
** That’s why I kissed you.

Seonghwa’s breath goes short. He leans forward, hands gripping the phone painfully tight until his knuckles are white, until his fingers scream for release. His heart starts to thump madly inside his ribcage. He feels a short-lived euphoria before it’s eaten up by a molten cocktail of confusion, despair and denial.

That… _that kiss_ … five years ago...

Seonghwa recalls Wooyoung’s words in a rough whisper, his own panic rising fast, “ _You’re the Aurora, Park Seonghwa. He’s been writing about_ you.”

Their song lyrics… Hongjoong’s lyrics...

Horizon. _The sun shines far away, somewhere between the sea and the sky. Now you're gonna take me there._

Inception. _I can't go back to the way it was, you didn't know me. After I bumped into you, I became craving for you more, uncontrollably._

Precious. _You keep whispering, that low voice of yours. Keeps me from falling asleep, I want more, I’m craving more._

… Treasure. _Give me that twinkling star over there; hold my hand. Finding you in my dreams, it continues to shine on us, Starlight. Right now, I only want you._

*

_“Where are we going?” Seonghwa asks, “Mr. Kim’s going to be really angry with us if he knows we snuck out.”_

_“Come on!” Hongjoong laughs, pulling him into the elevator and pressing the button for the 50th floor. “I need inspiration, I can’t write without it!”_

_“Our group concept is pirates, shouldn’t we be going west to the beach?” Seonghwa says, rubbing his arms up and down nervously._

_“You’re thinking too horizontally, sometimes we need to think vertically,” Hongjoong says, eyes ablaze with something divine that makes Seonghwa’s heart skip a beat._

_This is fine. He’s just developing a crush on his bandmate and leader. That’s totally normal and not terrifying in the slightest._

_The elevator doors peel open and Seonghwa’s eyes widen. It’s a stunningly designed restaurant with glass heavily featured and overflowing with greenery that spills over the white exposed foundations. There’s a contented, jovial vibe with fashionable, rich people sitting at tables; one family of about twenty converse and laugh in a glass greenhouse that sits inside the interior of the restaurant._

_“Pretend we’re going to the bathroom,” Hongjoong whispers and grabs Seonghwa’s hand to tug him forward. They walk briskly, trying their best to look the part, and Hongjoong takes him past the tables to a lookout point with another small verdure structure that looks like a farm cottage set up as a photo op._

_Seonghwa grabs at his heartspace, which is now galloping away from him. He wheezes out, “Geez, Hongjoong, this is gonna give me a cardiac arrest.” Hongjoong just laughs, and it’s the most wonderful sound, as he guides him closer to the glass-panelled view of Seoul. Seonghwa grips Hongjoong’s hand hard, the height dizzying. Instead, he gazes up to the clear night sky, stars dotted around a crescent moon._

_“Seong means star, right?” Hongjoong asks._

_“Yeah, and Hwa means become. So, ‘to become a star’.”_

_“It’s perfect. You’re our starlight,” Hongjoong says, gaze still tilted up to the sky. He hums a melody, starting it over a few times, experimenting with the note sequencing._

_Seonghwa blushes, feeling so embarrassed like he might pass out, so he takes his hand back and digs around for the phone in his pocket. “Hey, let’s take a selca together, look, the photo op is free!”_

_Hongjoong belatedly blinks out of his reverie, then takes Seonghwa’s face in, as if memorizing every feature and detail._

_Under the microscope, Seonghwa flushes even darker, instinctively tugging Hongjoong by the sleeve towards the cottage structure, “Come on, Joong!!”_

_*_

Seonghwa tries to stand up, but he stumbles, coming back down hard on his knees and his phone goes clattering across the rooftop. He presses his hands hard into the roof, eyes impossibly wide, gasping for air like he’s been underwater too long.

Wooyoung was right.

They all were.

_Hongjoong is in love with me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [jks_microwave's twt](https://twitter.com/JKs_Microwave) // [jiminly's twt](https://twitter.com/lovelyturnabout)


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